LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 
MRS.    ALFRED  W.     INGALLS 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES, 


REMARKABLE    INSTANCES 


COURAGE,    PERSEVERANCE,    AND    SUFFERING 


R.     A.     DAVENPORT 


'  Wherein  I  spoke  of  most  disastrous  chances, 
Of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field  ; 
Of  hair-breadth  'scapes  i'  th'  imminent  deadly  breach." 

SHAKESPEARE. 


A.    L.    FOWLE 

NEW  YORK 
IQOO 


PUBLISHER  S'   ADVERTISEMENT. 


THE  design  of  this  work  is  to  present  to  the 
reader  such  instances  of  courage,  constancy,  and 
perseverance,  under  circumstances  the  most  peril- 
ous  and  appalling,  as  will  most  conspicuously  show 
the  power  of  the  human  mind  to  triumph  over  dif- 
ficulties, and  that  nothing  is  to  be  despaired  of 
where  there  is  self-possession  to  look  danger  fear- 
lessly in  the  face,  and  promptly  to  take  advantage 
of  emergencies  as  they  arise.  Truth,  it  has  been 
said,  is  often  more  marvellous  than  fiction,  and  the 
realities  here  exhibited  strikingly  exemplify  the 
correctness  of  this  remark. 

Each  narrative  is  complete  in  itself,  presenting 
a  finished  portraiture  of  the  most  prominent  actors, 
and  a  full  account  of  the  events  to  which  it  relates. 
The  reader,  therefore,  will  derive  much  valuable 
historical  information  from  this  volume,  in  addition 
to  the  pleasure  experienced  in  its  perusal. 

The  publishers  would  farther  state,  that  the  ar- 
ticles composing  this  work  have  been  taken  from 
one  of  a  larger  size,  the  most  valuable  and  interest- 
ing having  been  selected  by  the  American  editor 
for  this  object.  &  & 

H.  &B. 

Naf-York,  Aug.,  1841. 


PERILOUS  ADVENTURES 


WANDERINGS  OF  PRINCE  CHARLES 
EDWARD. 

THB  adventurous  attempt  of  Prince  Charles  Ed- 
ward  to  recover  the  throne  of  his  ancestors  may 
be  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  enter- 
prises of  the  kind,  when  we  take  into  account  the 
scantiness  of  his  means  at  the  outset,  the  success 
he  at  first  met  with,  the  rapid  progress  of  events, 
and  the  sudden  and  complete  reverse  of  fortune 
which  prostrated  his  family  forever.  Landing 
with  only  nine  followers,  in  the  course  of  nine 
short  months  he  gained  possession  of  the  capital 
and  part  of  the  kingdom  of  his  early  progenitors ; 
utterly  routed  a  veteran  army  at  Preston  Pans  ; 
penetrated,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  nearly  two  hun- 
dred miles  into  England,  and  to  within  a  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  of  its  capital ;  effected  a  retreai, 
with  his  forces  unbroken,  in  the  face  of  two  armies ; 
won  another  victory  at  Falkirk ;  and  at  last  sank 
beneath  outnumbering  foes  at  "  pale,  red  Culloden. 
where  his  hopes  were  drowned." 

When  the  battle  of  Culloden  had  been  irrecover- 
ably lost,  the  prince,  with  a  party  of  horse,  compo- 
•ed  chierly  of  his  counsellors  and  friends,  fled  to- 
wards the  River  Nairn,  which  he  crossed  at  the 
ford  of  FaHie.  Here,  about  four  miles  from  the 
scene  of  his  disaster,  he  rested  for  a  short  time  ir 


10  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

a  cottage,  and  held  a  sort  of  council.  The  result 
of  the  deliberation  was,  that  the  routed  army  should 
be  assembled  at  Ruthven  in  Badenoch,  while  ho 
himself  should  traverse  the  country  for  the  purpose 
of  rousing  those  chieftains  who  had  hitherto  kept 
back,  to  bring  their  forces  into  the  field,  and  make 
another  struggle  against  the  reigning  monarch. 
There  were,  indeed,  some  grounds  for  believing 
that  a  stand  might  yet  be  made :  in  the  course  of 
a  day  or  two  a  great  part  of  the  defeated  troops 
were  rallied  at  Ruthven ;  they  held  all  the  passes 
between  Ruthven  and  Inverness ;  though  diminish, 
ed  in  numbers,  they  were  still  full  of  courage ;  were 
soon  re-enforced  by  clans  which  had  been  on  their 
march  to  join  them  before  the  encounter  at  Cul- 
loden  ;  and  might  expect  to  be  still  farther  strength- 
ened by  several  clans  which  were  absent  on  leave, 
and  by  others  which  dreaded  the  barbarity  of  the 
conquerors.  But,  influenced  probably  by  his  Irish 
counsellors,  Charles  seems  to  have  lost  all  hope  of 
accomplishing  anything  with  his  brave  but  irregu- 
lar bands,  and,  accordingly,  at  the  very  moment 
when  they  were  expecting  his  orders  to  take  the 
Held,  he  addressed  to  them  the  disheartening  mes- 
sage that  "every  man  must  provide  for  his  own 
safety  in  the  best  manner  he  could."  This  was,  of 
course,  the  signal  for  a  general  flight. 

From  the  River  Nairn,  meanwhile,  Charles  had 
continued  his  course  to  Gortuleg,  a  seat  of  one 
of  the  Erasers.  Wishing,  in  case  of  pursuit,  to 
divide  and  mislead  the  enemy's  parties,  he  is  said 
to  have  dinected  the  major  part  of  the  gentlemen 
around  him  to  disperse  upon  different  routes.  At 
Gortuleg  Lord  Lovat  was  then  residing.  Thi» 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  11 

wily  and  unprincipled  personage,  traitor  alike  to 
the  cause  which  he  really  loved  and  to  that  which 
he  had  long  pretended  to  espouse,  was  driven  ai- 
most  to  madness  when  he  heard  that  Charles  was 
approaching  as  a  hopeless  fugitive.  The  ruin 
which  he  had  brought  upon  himself  and  his  family 
now  stared  him  in  the  face,  and  he  broke  out  into  the 
bitterest  execrations,  reproaches,  and  bewailings. 
Charles,  whom  Lovat  received,  however,  with  out- 
ward tokens  of  respect,  endeavoured  to  console 
him  by  exciting  a  hope  of  better  days :  "  they  had," 
he  said,  "  had  two  days  of  triumph  over  the  elec- 
tor's troops,  and  he  did  not  doubt  they  should  yet 
have  a  third."  He  at  last  succeeded,  or  seemed  to 
succeed,  in  calming  Lovat,  and  a  discussion  was 
entered  into  respecting  his  own  future  movements. 
Gortuleg  was  deemed  too  near  to  the  royal  army 
to  be  a  safe  abode  for  the  princely  fugitive ;  and, 
therefore,  after  having  rested  for  two  hours,  refresh, 
ed  himself,  and  changed  his  dress,  he  continued  his 
flight,  accompanied  by  several  of  his  confidential 
friends. 

At  ten  o'clock  in  the  night  the  prince  and  his 
followers  quitted  Gortuleg,  to  pursue  their  rugged 
and  melancholy  journey  along  the  shore  of  Loch 
Ness.  Invergarry,  the  seat  of  Macdonnel  of  Glen- 
garry,  a  few  miles  beyond  Fort  Augustus,  was  the 
refuge  they  were  seeking.  They  reached  it  at 
about  five  in  the  morning,  but  there  was  no  one  to 
give  them  a  hospitable  reception.  The  furniture 
had  been  removed,  there  were  no  provisions,  and  a 
solitary  domestic  was  the  only  person  remaining  in 
the  mansion.  The  fugitives,  however,  exhausted 
by  a  ride  of  forty  miles  in  their  perturbed  state  of 
B 


12  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

mind,  were  glad  to  sleep  upon  the  bare  floor.  They 
must  have  departed  without  even  satisfying  their 
hunger,  had  not  the  servant  of  Alexander  Macleod 
caught  two  salmon  in  Loch  Garry,  on  which  they 
dined.  This  was  a  foretaste  of  what  the  wanderer 
was  destined  to  endure.  At  Invergarry  he  dismiss, 
ed  all  his  adherents,  except  Sullivan,  O'Niel,  and 
Edward  Burke  the  servant  of  Macleod.  The  lat- 
ter was  to  serve  as  his  guide,  and  the  prince  now 
disguised  himself  in  Burke's  clothes. 

A  wearisome  journey  of  seven  hours  brought  the 
diminished  party  to  the  house  of  Donald  Cameron 
of  Glenpean,  at  Loch  Arkeig,  where  Charles  halt- 
ed, so  completely  worn  out  that  he  dropped  asleep 
while  Burke  was  loosening  his  spatterdashes.  In 
the  morning  he  resumed  his  flight  to  the  westward. 
He  stopped  at  Newboll,  where  he  was  liberally  en- 
tertained ;  and  where,  for  the  first  time  in  five 
nights,  he  enjoyed  sound  repose.  He  had  need  of 
it  to  strengthen  him  for  the  toil  he  was  to  encounter. 
In  the  expectation  of  hearing  from  some  of  his 
friends,  he  vainly  waited  for  a  few  hours  on  the  fol- 
lowing day ;  but  the  fear  of  being  overtaken  by 
his  enemies  again  urged  him  forward.  Hitherto  he 
had  travelled  on  horseback  ;  but  he  was  now  com- 
pelled to  give  up  that  accommodation,  as  his  route 
lay  over  a  chain  of  high  mountains  where  roads 
were  unknown.  The  ftigi lives  crossed  this  almost 
inaccessible  ridge,  and  in  the  evening  reached  the 
head  of  Loch  Morrer,  at  a  place  called  Oban.  A 
miserable  hut,  situated  on  the  verge  of  a  wood,  and 
occasionally  used  for  sheep-shearing,  was  theii 
shelter  for  the  night. 

Tho  next  day,  which  was  Sunday,  was  no  sab- 


PRINCE    CHARLES   EDWARD.  13 

bath  for  Charles.  Accompanied  by  his  three  ad- 
herents, with  infinite  difficulty  he  made  his  way 
over  another  range  of  steep  and  rugged  mountains, 
and  penetrated  into  the  district  of  Aresaig,  where 
he  found  a  temporary  refuge  at  the  village  of  Glen- 
boisdale.  There  he  spent  four  days,  and  was  join, 
ed  by  several  of  his  fugitive  partisans,  among  whom 
were  Clanronald,  Lockhart  the  younger  of  Carn- 
wath,  and  ./Eneas  Macdonald.  While  staying  at 
this  place  he  received  a  message  from  Lord  George 
Murray,  assuring  him  that  the  cause  of  the  Stuarts 
was  by  no  means  hopeless,  and  imploring  him  not 
to  quit  the  country.  This  petition  was  backed  by 
Clanronald  and  others,  who  offered  to  build  for  the 
prince  several  summer  huts  in  different  extensive 
woods,  near  which  a  careful  watch  should  be  kept, 
and  from  one  to  another  of  which  he  might  always 
remove,  as  circumstances  required.  In  the  mean- 
while,  Clanronald  and  some  of  his  trusty  friends 
would  visit  the  western  islands,  and  secure  a  ves. 
sel  by  which  his  royal  highness  might  escape  to 
France,  should  such  a  measure  at  last  become  ne- 
cessary.  But  Charles  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  this 
proposal  :  Sullivan  had  impressed  him  with  a  be- 
lief that  he  would  find  a  more  safe  asylum  in  the 
western  islands  than  on  the  mainland,  and  thither 
he  was  obstinately  bent  upon  going. 

He  would  not,  perhaps,  have  tarried  so  long  in 
\resaig  had  he  not  been  waiting  for  one  Donald 
Macleod,  whom  he  expected  from  Skye,  to  be  his 
guide  to  the  islands.  He  was  convinced  that  he 
should  meet  with  no  mercy  if  he  fell  into  the  hands 
of  his  enemies  ;  and  he  might  reasonably  fear  that 
the  offer  of  thirty  thousand  pounds,  formerly  made 


14  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

for  his  seizure,  and  now  still  more  sedulously  re- 
proclaimed,  would  prove  a  temptation  far  too  strong 
to  be  resisted  by  a  weak  or  an  avaricious  mind. 
While  he  was  labouring  under  these  apprehensions, 
an  alarm  was  one  day  raised  that  foes  were  ap- 
proaching. An  instant  dispersion  of  the  fugitives 
took  place,  Charles  betaking  himself  to  a  neigh- 
bouring forest  for  security.  While  wandering 
there,  he  saw  an  aged  Highlander  coming  towards 
him.  On  questioning  the  stranger,  he  found  him  to 
be  the  very  Donald  Macleod  whom  he  was  so  anx 
iously  expecting.  "  Then  I  am  he  who  sent  for 
you,"  exclaimed  Charles  :  "  you  see  the  distress  I 
am  in,  and  therefore  I  throw  myself  into  your  bo- 
som ;  do  what  you  please  with  me  ;  I  am  your 
prince."  Donald  was  so  deeply  affected,  that  for 
a  while  he  could  only  reply  by  tears ;  and  wheu  at 
last  he  was  able  to  speak,  he  said  that  he  was  old, 
and  he  feared  could  be  of  no  great  use  to  him,  but 
that  he  would  do  whatever  was  in  his  power.  He 
added,  that  some  of  the  hostile  party  were  not  more 
than  ten  or  twelve  miles  off,  seeking  him,  and  con. 
sequently  it  would  be  prudent  to  remove  from  Are- 
saig  with  as  little  delay  as  possible. 

By  means  of  Clanronald,  an  eight-oared  open 
boat  was  speedily  obtained..  Four  pecks  of  oat- 
meal, and  a  pot  in  which  to  boil  it  when  they  land- 
ed, formed  the  whole  of  their  stores.  Charles  had 
assumed  the  name  of  Mr.  St.  Clair,  and  Sullivan 
passed  for  his  father.  Macleod,  from  his  long  ex- 
perience of  the  signs  of  the  weather,  foresaw  that 
a  storm  was  at  hand,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade 
the  prince  to  defer  his  voyage  till  the  morrow.  But 
Charles,  believing  he  had  more  to  dread  from  hia 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  15 

merciless  enemies  than  from  the  raging  elemants, 
determined  to  put  instantly  to  sea.  The  crew  of 
the  boat  were  willing  to  brave  the  danger,  and  ac- 
cordingly, at  twilight,  they  pushed  from  land.  The 
prediction  of  Macleod  was  soon  verified.  Scarce- 
ly  were  they  well  out  to  sea  when  a  terrible  tem- 
pest arose,  and  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents. 
Their  situation  became  perilous  in  the  extreme  ; 
they  had  neither  compass  to  steer  by  nor  pump  to 
discharge  the  water,  the  night  was  pitchy  dark,  and 
they  were  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  course  they 
were  taking.  On  one  side  the  waves  threatened 
every  moment  to  swallow  them  up  ;  on  the  other 
they  were  in  danger  of  being  driven  on  the  coast  of 
Skye,  where  numbers  of  the  militia  were  roaming 
about  in  quest  of  their  proscribed  passenger.  The 
light  of  morning  at  length  dawned  upon  them,  and 
dispelled  their  terrors  by  showing  them  a  friendly 
shore.  During  the  night  the  wind  had  wafted  them 
upward  of  a  hundred  miles,  and  they  found  them- 
selves off  Rossinish  Point,  the  northeast  corner  of 
Benbecula,  one  of  the  group  of  the  Hebrides.  With 
joyful  hearts  the  rowers  ran  the  boat  upon  the  beach, 
and  landed  with  their  passengers  in  safety.  They 
took  possession  of  a  deserted  cowhouse  without  a 
door,  and  the  prince  helped  to  light  a  fire  to  warm 
the  crew,  who  were  almost  perished  with  wet  and 
cold.  He  also  purchased  a  cow  for  thirty  shillings, 
a  part  of  which,  with  some  meal,  was  put  into  the 
pot,  to  relieve  their  hunger.  When  he  had  parta- 
ken of  this  rude  refreshment,  he  lay  down  upon 
the  floor,  covered  by  an  old  sailcloth,  and  slept 
soundly.  The  storm,  painful  and  alarming  as  it 
was.  had  nevertheless  been  favourable  to  them,  as 


16  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

it  had  driven  into  harbour  all  the  boats  and  small 
vessels  which  were  upon  the  lookout  for  the  wan- 
derer, it  being  thought  impossible  that  any  frail 
skiff  could  live  in  such  a  tremendous  sea. 

The  storm  continued  to  rage  for  fourteen  hours, 
after  the  prince's  landing,  and  it  was  not  till  the 
third  day  that  they  could  again  safely  put  to  sea. 
They  were  now  bound  to  Stornoway,  in  the  island 
of  Lewis,  where  they  meant  to  represent  them- 
selves as  Orkney  men  who  had  been  wrecked  upon 
the  isle  of  Tirec,  and  wanted  to  hire  a  vessel  to 
convey  them  to  their  own  country.  Once  masters 
of  the  vessel,  there  would  be  nothing  to  prevent 
their  steering  for  France.  Taking  with  them  part 
of  the  cow  they  had  purchased,  they  set  sail,  on 
the  29th  of  April,  for  Stornoway,  distant  about 
seventy  miles.  But  they  had  not  gone  more  than 
half  way  when  they  were  overtaken  by  a  storm, 
which  compelled  them  to  put  into  the  little  island 
that  bears  the  double  name  of  Glass  and  Scalpa. 
This  island  belonged  to  a  hostile  laird,  and  they 
were  consequently  obliged  to  appear  under  their 
borrowed  character  of  shipwrecked  merchantmen. 
They  fortunately  fell  in  with  one  Donald  Campbell, 
a  farmer,  a  partisan  of  the  Stuarts,  who  hospitably 
entertained  them,  apd  lent  his  own  boat  to  Donald 
Macleod  to  proceed  to  Stornoway  and  hire  a  ves- 
sel for  the  prince.  Charles,  meanwhile,  remained 
in  the  farmer's  house. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  Donald  having  sent 
word  that  he  had  engaged  a  vessel,  the  prince  and 
his  friends  set  sail  for  Stornoway.  Stress  of  weath« 
er,  however,  soon  compelled  them  to  land  in  Loch 
Seaforth,  whence  they  had  to  travel  thirty  miles 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  17 

over  a  wet  and  trackless  moor.  The  distance  was 
increased  by  the  stupidity  of  their  guide,  who. led 
them  several  miles  out  of  their  way ;  and  it  was 
not  till  the  next  day  at  noon  that  they  reached  Ar. 
nish,  about  half  a  mile  from  the  town.  From  this 
place  Charles  despatched  a  messenger  to  Donald 
for  some  food,  as  they  were  almost  starving.  Don- 
aid  himself  came  with  the  provisions,  and  then  took 
the  prince  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  Mackenzie  of  Kil- 
dun,  where  he  was  to  take  up  his  abode  for  the 
night.  He  then  went  back  to  Stornoway,  to  pre- 
pare for  their  embarcation. 

When  Donald  arrived  at  Stornoway,  he  found  it 
all  in  commotion.  The  townspeople  were  fully 
convinced  that  the  prince  was  at  hand  with  five 
hundred  men,  and  meant  to  burn  the  place,  take 
away  their  cattle,  and  seize  upon  a  vessel  to  carry 
him  to  France.  The  origin  of  this  commotion  has 
been  variously  related :  by  some  it  is  said  to  have 
been  occasioned  by  a  letter  sent  from  South  Uist 
by  a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  communicating  the 
terrible  intelligence  of  the  wanderer's  design ;  by 
others  it  has  been  ascribed  to  want  of  prudence  in 
Donald,  who  had  behaved  in  a  manner  to  excite 
suspicion,  especially  by  offering  to  purchase  the 
vesse1  at  a  high  price,  on  the  owner  refusing  tc 
abide  Dy  his  original  agreement.  Be  this  as  it 
n.ay,  it  is  certain  that  the  people  of  the  town  were 
in  a  violent  state  of  excitement ;  and,  had  the  prince 
been  among  them,  which  he  would  have  been  but 
for  his  having  been  delayed,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
they  would  have  proceeded  to  extremities  against 
him.  It  was  in  vain  Donald  protested  that  Charles 
had  no  forces,  nor  any  wish  to  injure  them  if  he 
24—2 


18  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

had  the  means.  All  he  could  gain  from  them  was 
a  declaration  that  they  had  no  desire  to  hurt  the 
prince,  provided  he  would  depart ;  but  they  posi- 
tively refused  to  furnish  him  with  a  pilot,  or  to 
lend  him  any  assistance  whatever. 

With  this  disagreeable  intelligence  Donald  went 
back  to  Kildun.  Some  advised  the  prince  to  fly  to 
the  mountains ;  but,  rightly  judging  that  flight  would 
tempt  pursuit,  he  rejected  this  proposal.  To  set  off 
immediately  by  water  was  impossible,  for  two  of 
the  boatmen,  in  a  fit  of  panic,  had  fled  into  the  coun- 
try, and  the  other  two  had  put  to  sea  with  the  boat. 
The  remainder  of  the  day  they  were  therefore  com- 
pelled to  spend  at  Mrs.  Mackenzie's,  in  momentary 
expectation  that  something  unpleasant  would  hap 
pen.  Their  fears  were  relieved  in  the  morning  by 
the  return  of  the  two  men  with  the  boat,  and  they 
delayed  not  a  moment  in  making  ready  for  their 
flight.  They  had  part  of  a  cow  which  they  had 
purchased  at  Kildun,  and  this,  with  two  pecks  of 
oatmeal,  a  lump  of  butter,  and  some  brandy  and  su- 
gar, formed  the  stores  for  their  voyage.  The  hasty 
meal  which  they  took  before  their  departure  was 
prepared  by  the  prince  himself;  it  consisted  of  a 
cake,  made  of  oatmeal  and  the  brains  of  the  cow, 
baked  upon  a  stone  before  the  fire. 

On  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  May  they  left  this 
inhospitable  shore.  It  was  the  wish  of  the  prince 
to  steer  for  the  Orkneys ;  but  the  boatmen  were 
averse  from  venturing  so  great  a  distance,  and  it 
was  resolved  to  take  a  southerly  course.  Danger 
was  on  all  sides  of  them.  The  government  were 
aware  that  Charles  was  wandering  among  the  Heb- 
rides, and  »he  roast  was  consequently  swarming 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  19 

with  English  ships,  in  wait  to  intercept  him.  Be- 
fore  they  had  proceeded  far,  the  sight  of  four  ves- 
sels drove  them  to  take  shelter  in  the  small  island 
of  Eiurn  or  Iffurb,  a  little  to  the  north  of  Scalpa. 
This  island  was  inhabited  by  a  few  fishermen,  who, 
seeing  the  vessels  and  the  boat,  concluded  that  the 
latter  was  conveying  a  pressgang,  and  were  so 
alarmed  that  they  made  the  best  of  their  way  into 
the  interior.  Here  Charles  stayed  for  four  days, 
lodging  in  a  wretched  hovel,  the  dilapidated  roof  of 
which  they  covered  with  a  sailcloth,  and  partly 
subsisting  on  the  fish  which  the  fishermen  had 
spread  upon  the  rocks  to  dry.  The  prince  would 
have  left  some  money  in  payment  for  the  fish,  had 
not  the  politic  Donald  suggested  that  this  would 
prove  they  were  not  a  pressgang,  and  excite  an 
idea  that  pe.rsons  of  consequence  had  been  there. 
An  attempt  to  land  on  Scalpa  was  frustrated  by 
four  fellows  laying  hands  upon  the  boat  the  mo- 
ment it  touched  the  beach :  a  circumstance  which 
induced  them  to  push  out  to  sea.  The  wind  fell, 
and  they  had  to  row  all  night,  though  almost  faint- 
ing  for  want  of  food.  In  the  morning  they  again 
hoisted  their  sail.  During  this  day  they  had  no. 
thing  to  eat  but  a  mixture  called  drarnmock,  made 
of  oatmeal  and  salt  water,  for  of  fresh  water  they 
had  none.  This  unpalatable  composition  the  prince 
is  said  to  have  eaten  with  apparent  relish,  washing 
it  down  with  a  glass  of  brandy.  Twice  in  their 
way  to  Benbecula  they  were  chased  for  miles  by 
English  ships,  from  one  of  which  they  could  escape 
only  by  running  among  the  rocks,  near  Roundil 
Point,  on  the  island  of  Harris.  Soon  after  the 
prince  had  landed  a  storm  arosa,  which  blew  his 


20  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

pursuers  off  the  coast ;  on  which  he  exultingly  ex- 
claimed that  Providence  protected  him,  and  would 
baffle  all  the  designs  of  his  enemies. 

Subsistence  being  a  primary  object,  the  boatmen 
immediately  began  to  search  among  the  rocks  for 
shellfish.  One  of  them  caught  a  crab,  and  joy- 
fully  held  it  up  to  the  prince,  who  seized  a  bucket 
and  joined  in  the  hunt.  The  bucket  was  filled  by 
their  joint  exertions,  and  Charles,  in  spite  of  the 
remonstrances  of  his  followers,  persisted  in  carry- 
ing it  for  two  miles,  till  they  came  to  the  hut  where 
they  were  to  reside.  The  doorway  of  this  small, 
dirty  hovel  was  so  low  that  they  were  obliged  to 
creep  in  on  their  hands  and  knees.  This  mode  of 
entrance  being  by  no  means  pleasant,  Charles  or- 
dered a  part  of  the  soil  round  the  door  to  be  dug 
away.  From  this  goodly  abode  the  prince  de- 
spatched Donald  to  the  mainland  with  letters  to 
Lochiel  and  Secretary  Murray,  desiring  a  supply  of 
money,  and  information  as  to  the  state  of  affairs. 

The  arrival  of  Charles  being  made  known  to 
the  old  laird  of  Clanronald,  who  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  outbreak,  that  gentleman  hastened  to  him 
with  wine,  provisions,  shoes,  stockings,  and  shirts  ; 
the  last  was  not  the  least  acceptable  of  these  arti- 
cles, the  linen  of  the  prince  having  by  this  time  be- 
come  "  as  dingy  as  a  dishclout."  The  wearer  him- 
self was  in  very  indifferent  plight ;  his  spirits  were 
good,  but  he  had  began  to  suffer  corporeally  from 
his  toils  and  privations  ;  his  frame  was  emaciated, 
his  countenance  haggard.  To  better  in  some  small 
degree  the  condition  of  his  guest,  Clanronald  re. 
moved  him  to  a  secluded  hut,  called  the  forest- 
house  of  Glencorrodale,  in  the  island  of  South  Uist, 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  21 

so  situated  that,  in  case  of  alarm,  its  inmate  could 
take  either  to  the  mountains  or  the  sea.  Thither 
Charles  was  accompanied  by  several  of  his  friends ; 
and  twelve  of  Clanronald's  dependants  were  sta- 
tioned near  his  retreat,  to  serve  as  guards,  guides,. 
or  messengers.  In  this  place  Charles  enjoyed  the 
luxury  of  having  two  cowhides,  stretched  upon 
four  sticks,  suspended  ,over  his  couch  to  shield  him, 
from  the  weather.  Here  he  remained  for  three 
weeks,  amusing  himself  with  hunting,  shooting,  and 
fishing,  and  sometimes  enjoying  the  society  of  old 
Clanronald  and  his  brother  Boisdale.  While  the 
prince  was  here,  Donald  returned  empty-handed 
as  far  as  regarded  money,  Murray  having  told  him 
that  he  had  only  sixty  louis  d'or  for  himself,  and 
could  spare  nothing  for  his  master.  Donald,  how. 
ever,  had  not  forgotten  to  purchase  and  bring  back 
a  couple  of  ankers  of  brandy. 

The  situation  of  the  prince  in  South  Uist  was- 
one  of  comparative  comfort.  But  it  was  too  pleas- 
ant to  last.  His  indefatigable  pursuers  were  dog- 
ging him  closely,  and  he  had  no  alternative  but 
flight  or  destruction.  They  had  girdled  the  whole 
coast  of  the  Hebrides  with  vessels  of  all  sizes,  and 
the  military  had  orders  to  sweep  the  chain  of  isl- 
ands from  end  to  end,  and  leave  no  corner  unex- 
amined.  Even  the  remote  island  of  St.  Kilda,. 
whose  inhabitants  lived  in  profound  ignorance  of 
war  and  politics,  had  been  rigorously  searched. 
Already  troops  had  been  landed  in  Barra  and  other 
neighbouring  isles,  and  were  preparing  to  overrun 
South  Uist.  Charles  therefore  sought  refuge  in 
the  petty  islet  of  Wia  :  scared  from  thence  by  hia 
advancing  foes,  he  found  shelter  for  a  few  days  on 


22  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES 

the  banks  of  Loch  Boisdale,  after  having  encoun- 
tered a  storm  and  some  hostile  cruisers.  At  Loch 
Boisdale  he  parted  from  all  his  friends  except 
Colonel  O'Niel,  after  which  he  removed  to  a  hut 
near  the  seashore,  about  a  mile  from  Clanronald's 
mansion. 

The  moment  at  length  arrived  when  to  remain 
longer  on  South  Uist  was  impossible,  the  king's 
troops  being  on  the  advance  from  both  of  its  ex- 
tremities. Yet  how  were  the  means  of  escape  to 
be  procured  ?  They  were  furnished  by  a  woman  : 
one  whose  memory  will  be  honoured  as  long  as 
courage  and  compassionate  feeling  can  obtain  the 
respect  of  mankind.  There  was  then  visiting  at 
Clanronald's  seat  a  lady  nearly  related  to  him,  na- 
med Flora  Macdonald,  whose  father-in-law  com- 
manded  one  of  the  militia  detachments  which  were 
traversing  South  Uist.  "  She  was  about  twenty- 
four  years  of  age,  of  a  middle  stature,  and  a  very 
pretty,  agreeable  person,  of  great  sprightliness  in 
her  looks,  and  abounded  with  good  sense,  modesty, 
gentleness,  and  humanity."  In  the  hope  that  she 
might  render  them  service?  O'Niel  narrated  to  her 
the  sufferings  and  imminent  danger  of  the  prince, 
and  her  womanly  pity  was  excited  by  the  mournfur 
tale.  She  had  an  interview  with  Charles,  and  con- 
sented  to  convey  him  to  Skye  dressed  as  her  fe- 
male servant.  Under  pretence  of  wishing  to  see 
her  mother,  who  was  in  Skye,  she  next  obtained 
from  her  unsuspecting  father-in-law  a  passport  for 
herself,  her  male  attendant  Mac  Echan,  and  her 
Irish  maid  Betty  Burke.  Flora  seems  to  have 
felt  a  mischievous  pleasure  in  trying  how  far  she 
could  play  upon  her  simple  stepfather  ;  for,  on  the 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  23 

pretence  of  her  mother  having  a  large  quantity  of 
flax  in  store,  she  actually  prevailed  upon  him  to 
give  her  a  letter  recommending  the  supposititious 
Betty  Burke  as  an  admirable  spinner. 

The  plan  was  communicated  to  Lady  Clanron- 
aid,  who  cordially  concurred  in  it.  Attire  suitable 
for  the  assumed  character  of  the  prince  was  pro- 
vided by  th«  two  ladies.  It  consisted  of  a  coarse 
cotton  gown,  with  purple  flowers  upon  a  white 
ground,  a  light-coloured  quilted  petticoat,  and  a 
mantle  of  dun  camlet,  made  after  the  Irish  fashion, 
with  a  hood  to  it.  These  articles  they  carried  to 
the  hut  where  Charles  was  concealed.  When  they 
entered  they  found  him  busied  in  roasting  the  liver 
and  heart  of  a  sheep  upon  a  wooden  spit,  and  were 
much  affected  at  seeing  him  reduced  to  such  ne- 
cessity. The  prince,  who  felt  that  his  dignity  was 
in  no  way  compromised,  made  light  of  the  matter, 
and  remarked  that  "  the  wretched  to-day  may  be 
happy  to-morrow."  He  added,  in  a  more  serious 
tone,  that  "  it  would  be  well  if  all  who  were  born 
to  greatness  had  a  little  of  the  same  experience 
that  he  had."  They  then  sat  down  to  dinner,  the 
prince  placing  Lady  Clanron  a  Id  on  his  left,  and 
Flora  on  his  right.  While  they  were  at  their 
meal,  a  servant  came  in  haste,  to  warn  Lady  Clan, 
ronald  that  Captain  Ferguson,  with  a  party  of  sol* 
dicrs,  was  at  her  house  in  quest  of  the  prince. 
She  therefore  returned  instantly  to  her  home. 

A  boat  had  been  secured  to  convey  Charles  to 
Skye,  and  he  now  began  to  prepare  for  his  voyage 
by  putting  on  his  female  apparel.  This  being 
bompleted,  he  proceeded  with  Flora  towards  the 
ceach,  and  joined  the  boat's  crew.  As  they  were 


24  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

wet,  and  had  to  wait  some  time  before  they  could 
depart,  a  fire  was  lighted  to  dry  them.  But  they 
had  not  been  long  there  when  they  we/e  startled 
by  the  sight  of  four  cutters,  full  of  armed  men,  sail- 
ing along  near  the  shore.  The  fire  was  hastily 
extinguished  ;  and,  concealing  themselves  among 
the  heather,  their  enemies  passed  by  without  ob- 
serving them. 

At  about  eight  in  the  evening,  on  the  28th  of 
June,  they  started  from  South  Uist.  After  sailing 
some  distance,  the  wind  rose  and  the  sea  began  to 
swell.  Charles,  who  saw  that  his  companions  were 
ill  at  ease,  did  his  best  to  enliven  them,  by  singing 
pleasant  songs  and  telling  merry  stories.  At  day- 
break a  wide  expanse  of  water  alone  was  visible, 
and,  the  wind  having  often  veered  about  during  the 
night,  they  knew  not  where  they  were.  In  a  short 
time,  however,  the  hills  of  Skye  came  in  sight ; 
and,  unconscious  of  the  danger  which  awaked  them 
there,  they  made  for  the  point  of  Waternish,  which 
projects  from  the  northwest  corner  of  that  island. 
They  had  approached  within  musket-shot  of  the 
land  before  they  perceived  that  it  was  covered 
with  soldiers.  Hastily  changing  their  course,  they 
plied  their  oars  vigorously,  regardless  of  the  threats 
of  the  military.  These  threats  were  followed  by 
volleys  of  musketry,  the  balls  whiz/ing  around  the 
boat  on  all  sides.  In  this  critical  situation  the 
courage  and  coolness  of  the  prince  remained  un- 
shaken. He  had  but  one  fear,  and  that  was  for 
his  deliverer.  He  earnestly  entreated  Miss  Mac- 
donald  to  lie  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  to 
avoid  the  bullets  ;  but,  with  Spartan  firmness,  she 
replied  that  she  came  there  to  save  his  life,  not  to 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  36 

look  to  her  own,  and  that  she  should  blush  to 
shrink  from  danger  and  leave  him  exposed  to  it : 
nor,  though  the  shots  were  thickly  falling  about 
them,  could  he  prevail  on  her  to  follow  his  advice 
till  he  himself  consented  to  take  the  precaution 
which  he  recommended.  By  dint  of  strenuous  ex- 
ertion they  at  length  got  to  a  safe  distance,  and, 
happily,  no  one  was  hurt.  Flora,  however,  was 
so  worn  out  by  fatigue  and  anxiety  that  she  drop- 
ped asleep  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  The  prince 
covered  her  up  carefully,  and  sat  by  to  watch  lest 
any  of  the  crew  should  chance  to  disturb  her. 

Their  landing  was  effected  at  Kilbride,  near  Ma- 
gestad,  the  seat  of  Sir  Alexander  Macdonald.  It 
was  to  Magestad  that  the  prince  and  his  guide 
were  bound.  Sir  Alexander,  and  most  of  the 
other  lairds  of  Skye,  were  indeed  ostensibly  well 
affected  to  the  existing  government,  and  seemed  to 
lend  it  a  cordial  support ;  but  their  prejudices,  and 
perhaps  their  affections,  were  on  the  side  of  the 
Stuarts.  Sir  Alexander  himself  was  with  the  Duke 
of  Cumberland  ;  yet  it  was  to  his  wife,  Lady  Mar- 
garet, that  Flora  had  confided  her  secret  and  look- 
ed for  assistance. 

Having  placed  Charles  in  safety,  Flora  proceed- 
ed, with  her  attendant  Mac  Echan,  to  Magestad. 
The  house  was  full  of  British  officers.  She  con- 
trived, nevertheless,  to  have  a  private  interview 
with  Lady  Margaret,  in  which  it  was  settled  that 
the  prince  should  go,  for  the  present,  to  the  house 
of  Macdonald  of  Kingsburgh,  the  steward  of  Sir 
Alexander,  who  chanced  to  be  then  at  the  family 
mansion.  Kingsburgh  was  speedily  despatched  to 
the  prince,  who,  on  hearing  his  approach,  rushed 


26  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

out  from  his  concealment  with  a  large  knotted 
•tick,  and  stood  on  the  defensive  till  he  explained 
the  purport  of  his  mission.  Charles  and  his  con- 
ductor then  journeyed  on  towards  the  house  of  the 
latter,  which  was  several  miles  off.  Unaccustom- 
ed as  yet  to  his  disguise,  the  prince  was  more  than 
once  in  danger  of  betraying  his  sex.  "  I  never 
saw  such  a  tall,  impudent  jaud  in  my  life,"  ex- 
claimed  a  girl ;  "  see  what  lang  strides  she  takes, 
and  how  her  coats  wamble  about  her !  I  daur  say 
she's  an  Irish  woman,  or  else  a  man  in  woman's 
clothes."  Sometimes,  instead  of  courtesy  ing,  he 
bowed  to  those  who  greeted  them  on  the  road. 
In  fording  a  stream,  he  raised  his  petticoats  far 
higher  than  was  seemly  in  a  woman ;  and  when 
this  error  was  pointed  out  to  him,  he  remedied  it 
by  the  still  worse  mistake  of  allowing  them  to  float 
on  the  water.  "  Your  enemies  call  you  a  pre- 
tender," said  Kingsburgh  ;  "  but  if  you  are  one,  I 
must  say  that  you  are  the  worst  at  your  trade  I 
ever  met  with." 

On  the  road  they  were  joined  by  Flora,  who  at 
first  had  taken  another  route  on  horseback,  and 
the  party  reached  Kingsburgh's  house  at  eleven  at 
night.  His  wife  was  gone  to  bed,  and  she  sent 
down  a  welcome  to  the  guests,  and  an  apology  for 
not  rising.  She  little  thought  who  one  of  her 
guests  was.  Her  daughter,  who  was  seven  years 
old,  now  ran  up  to  her,  declaring  that  her  father 
"  had  brought  a  very  muckle  ill  shaken  up  wife  as 
ever  she  had  seen  ;  ay,  and  had  ta'en  her  into  the 
hall  too."  The  child  was  followed  by  Kingsburgh, 
who  told  his  wife  that  she  must  get  up  and  enter* 
tain  the  company.  The  lady  obeyed,  and  in  the 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  27 

mean  lime  sent  her  daughter  to  fetch  the  keys, 
which  had  been  left  in  the  hall ;  but  the  timid  girl 
returned  without  them,  saying  that  she  could  not 
go  in,  "  because  the  muckle  woman  was  walk-in'  up 
and  down  the  hall,  and  she  was  afraid  of  her." 
The  mother,  who  was  obliged  to  go  for  them  her- 
self, received  from  the  formidable  guest  the  cus- 
tomary salute  on  entering  the  room,  and  was  sad- 
ly discomposed  at  feeling  the  roughness  of  a  male 
cheek.  Suspecting  that  it  was  some  distressed 
gentleman  in  disguise,  she  questioned  her  husband 
as  to  the  name  of  the  person,  and  whether  he  was 
likely  to  know  what  was  become  of  the  prince. 
"It  is  the  prince  himself,  my  dear,"  replied  Kings- 
burgh.  Warm  as  her  feelings  were  towards 
Charles,  this  abrupt  intelligence  alarmed  her. 
"  The  prince  !"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  then  we  are  ruin- 
ed ;  we  will  a'  be  hanged  noo  !"  Kingsburgh  suc- 
ceeded in  quieting  her  fears,  and  desired  her  to 
bring  some  eggs,  and  butter  and  cheese,  for  supper. 
The  idea  of  presenting  such  a  supper  quite  over- 
threw her  again  ;  for  she  could  not  ijnagine  the 
possibility  of  a  prince  condescending  to  sup  upon 
anything  so  homely  as  butter,  cheese,  and  eggs. 
This  difficulty  being  removed  by  an  assurance  that 
Charles  had  lately  lived  upon  much  worse  fare, 
another  arose  from  his  telling  her  she  must  come 
to  table.  "  I  come  !"  said  the  astonished  dame  ; 
"  I  ken  naething  of  how  to  behave  before  majesty !" 
At  last  her  terrors  and  scruples  were  dispelled, 
and  the  party  sat  down  to  their  repast,  the  prince 
placing  her  on  his  left  and  Flora  on  his  right. 
When  the  ladies  had  withdrawn,  Charles  took  out 
a  short  dingy  pipet  and  began  to  smoke ;  a  prac- 
C 


28  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

tice  to  which,  he  said,  the  toothache  had  compelled 
him  to  have  recourse  in  his  wanderings.  This 
pipe  was  known  among  his  friends  by  the  name  of 
"  the  cutty  ;"  an  Irishman  would  call  it  a  dudeen. 
While  the  prince  was  enjoying  his  cutty,  Kings- 
burgh  brought  forth  a  small  china  bowl,  in  which 
he  mixed  some  toddy  ;  and  so  palatable  was  the 
liquor  that  bowl  followed  bowl,  and  the  host  ana 
his  guest  sat  quaffing  and  familiarly  conversing  fox 
several  hours.  Though  loth  to  seem  inhospitable, 
Kingsburgh  was  at  last  obliged  to  hint  at  the  ne- 
cessity there  was  that  the  prince  should  retire  to 
rest,  that  he  might  be  prepared  for  the  fatigue  of 
the  morrow.  Charles,  however,  good-humouredly 
insisted  on  another  supply  of  toddy ;  and,  seeing 
Kingsburgh  take  up  the  bowl  to  put  it  away,  he 
seized  upon  it  to  prevent  him.  Both  held  it  fast, 
and  in  their  amicable  scuffle  it  broke  asunder,  each 
of  them  retaining  a  portion  of  it.  The  destruction 
of  the  bowl  put  an  end  to  the  debate,  and  they  re- 
tired to  their  beds.* 

Charles,  who,  as  he  himself  said,  had  almost  for- 
gotten what  a  good  bed  was,  enjoyed  his  couch  so 
much  that  he  slept  for  ten  hours,  and  would  have 
slumbered  longer  had  not  his  host  aroused  him. 
It  was  necessary  that  he  should  depart  without 
delay.  A  change  of  dress  was  also  requisite  ;  and, 
accordingly,  "  a  short  coat  and  waistcoat,  a  phili- 
beg  and  short  hose,  a  plaid,  a  wig,  and  a  bonnet," 
were  provided  for  him.  As,  however,  it  would  not 

*  The  habit  of  inebriety,  which  was  a  stain  upon  the  latter 
years  of  this  unfortunate  prince,  originated,  perhaps,  in  his  -«- 
sorting  to  the  use  of  spirits  when  worn  with  toil,  and  suffering 
from  wet,  and  cold,  during  his  wanderings  in  Scotland. 


PRINCE    CHARLES   EDWARD.  29 

be  prudent  to  shift  his  attire  in  Kingsburgh's  house, 
no  other  alteration  was  at  present  made  than  sub- 
stituting a  new  pair  of  shoes  for  those  which  he 
wore,  and  through  which  his  toes  were  peeping. 
Kingsburgh  carefully  tied  the  cast-off  shoes  togeth 
er  and  hung  them  up,  declaring  that  they  might  be 
of  great  service  to  him.  "  How  so  ?"  asked  the 
prince ;  to  which  he  replied  that  he  would  come, 
when  his  guest  was  firmly  settled  in  St.  James's, 
and  shake  them  at  him,  to  bring  himself  to  his  rec- 
ollection. 

Raasay,  an  island  between  the  mainland  and 
Skye,  was  the  place  which  had  been  chosen  for 
the  prince's  asylum ;  and  he  was  to  proceed 
thither  from  Portree,  a  small  town  on  the  eastern 
shore  of  Skye.  To  procure  a  seaworthy  boat  was 
a  matter  of  some  difficulty ;  it  would  not  be  pru- 
dent to  confide  in  a  Portree  crew,  and  all  the  boats 
in  Raasay  had  been  destroyed  except  two,  which 
were  in  the  possession  of  Malcolm  Macleod,  a  par- 
xisan  of  the  Stuarts.  This  obstacle  was,  however, 
surmounted  by  the  contrivance  of  one  Donald  Mac- 
leod. Knowing  that  there  was  a  little  boat  in  a 
neighbouring  lake,  he  procured  assistance,  dragged 
it  across  a  mile  of  land  which  was  half  bog,  half 
precipice,  and  ventured  in  it  to  Raasay.  He  re- 
turned speedily,  bringing  with  him  Malcolm  Mac- 
leod, his  boat,  and  two  stout  boatmen. 

At  parting  from  his  hostess,  who  had  lost  all  her 
dread  of  being  hanged,  and  who  was  full  of  enthu- 
siasm for  him,  Charles  received  her  mull  or  snuff- 
box as  a  keepsake,  and  allowed  Flora  to  cut  off  a 
lock  of  his  hair,  which  the  ladies  shared  between 
them.  The  prince,  Flora,  and  Kingsburgh  now 


30  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

set  off  for  Portree.  When  they  had  gone  fai 
enough  from  the  house,  Kingsburgh  took  the  prince 
into  a  wood :  there  Charles  resumed  his  mascu. 
fine  appearance,  and  was  himself  again.  They 
then  went  on  to  Portree,  and  found  that  the  boat 
was  waiting  for  them  within  half  a  mile  of  the 
town.  Here,  at  the  inn,  Charles  took  a  grateful 
and  affectionate  leave  of  the  high-minded  Flora,  to 
whom  he  presented  his  miniature,  with  a  request 
that  she  would  ever  preserve  it  for  his  sake. 
Kingsburgh  attended  him  to  the  water  side,  and 
they  embraced  and  wept  when  they  parted.* 

Charles  landed  in  Raasay  early  in  the  morning 
of  the  first  of  July.  There  was  but  sorry  accom- 
modation for  him  in  his  new  place  of  abode. 
Nearly  all  the  houses  had  been  burned  by  the  sol- 
diery, and  he  was  obliged  to  put  up  with  a  poor 
hovel  which  some  shepherds  had  lately  built.  A 
bed  was  made  for  him  of  heath,  with  the  bloom  up- 
permost. For  provisions  they  were  tolerably  well 
off,  as  the  young  laird  of  Raasay  brought  them  a 
kid  and  a  lamb,  concealed  in  his  plaid.  Cause  for 
apprehension  soon  arose.  There  was  a  man  in 
the  island  who  had  come  there  a  fortnight  before 
for  the  purpose  of  selling  a  roll  of  tobacco.  The 
tobacco  had  long  been  sold,  and  yet  he  continued 
to  stray  about  without  any  apparent  business  to 
detain  him.  In  such  times  the  natural  conclusion 
was,  that  he  was  a  spy.  He  having  chanced  to 
approach  the  hovel,  Malcolm,  Murdoch,  and  young 

*  Miss  Macdonald,  Macleod,  and  Kingsburgh  were  arrested 
noon  after ;  the  lady  and  Malcolm  were  conveyed  to  London, 
and  Kingsburgh  was  taken  first  to  Fort  Augustus  and  subse- 
quently to  Edinburgh  Castle.  After  having  been  imprisoned 
tor  more  than  twelve  months,  they  were  all  set  at  liberty- 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  31 

Raasay  determined,  without  hesitation  or  inquiry, 
to  shoot  him.  The  prince  was  shocked ;  and  he 
strongly  remonstrated  against  murdering  a  person 
who  probably  was  innocent.  John  Mackenzie, 
who  was  on  watch  at  the  door,  heard  him,  and  ex- 
claimed in  the  Erse  language,  "He  must  be  shot ; 
you  are  the  king,  but  we  are  the  Parliament,  and 
will  do  as  we  please."  On  the  remark  being  trans- 
lated  to  Charles,  he  laughed  heartily,  and  called 
him  a  clever  fellow.  The  stranger,  meanwhile, 
passed  on  without  noticing  them,  and  thus  escaped 
an  otherwise  inevitable  death. 

It  is  probable  that  this  incident  induced  the 
prince  to  remove  from  Raasay  after  having  been 
there  only  two  days.  He  desired  to  be  conveyed 
back  to  Skye,  and  the  whole  party  consequently 
set  sail  on  the  evening  of  the  third.  The  wind 
soon  rose  alarmingly,  and  the  boat  shipped  so 
much  water  that  his  companions  declared  they  had 
better  return.  Charles,  however,  opposed  their 
wish,  telling  them  that  Providence,  which  had 
brought  them  through  so  many  perils,  would  pre- 
serve him  for  a  nobler  end  than  being  drowned. 
To  divert  their  attention  from  the  gale,  he  sang 
them  a  merry  Erse  song,  and  then  took  his  turn 
in  assisting  Malcolm  to  bale  out  the  water,  which 
often  threatened  to  swamp  the  boat.  It  was  eleven 
at  night  when  they  arrived  at  Scorebreck,  in  the 
Isle  of  Skye.  To  reach  the  land  they  were  obliged 
to  jump  into  the  sea,  and  the  prince  was  one  of 
the  first  to  make  the  plunge  and  help  to  haul  the 
4>oat  ashore.  Wet  and  hungry,  they  spent  the  night 
in  a  cowhouse,  without  food  or  fire. 

In  the  morning  Charles  parted  from  all  his  com- 


32  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

panions  but  Malcolm.  As  soon  as  they  were  alone, 
he  told  him  that  he  wished  to  be  conducted  to  that 
part  of  Skye  which  belonged  to  the  laird  of  Mac- 
kinnon.  Malcolm  represented  the  danger ;  but 
Charles  replied  that  there  was  nothing  now  to  be 
done  without  danger.  "  You,"  added  he,  "  shall 
be  the  master,  and  I  the  man ;"  and  he  immediate- 
ly began  to  assume  the  character,  by  strapping 
their  linen  bag  over  his  shoulders,  and  changing 
his  own  vest,  which  was  of  scarlet  tartan  with  gold 
twist  buttons,  for  Malcolm's,  which  was  of  a  plain- 
er kind.  Thinking  this  not  sufficient,  he  afterward 
took  off  his  wig,  tied  a  dirty  napkin  round  his  head 
under  his  bonnet,  stripped  the  ruffles  from  his  shirt, 
removed  the  buckles  from  his  shoes,  and  made  his 
friend  fasten  them  with  strings.  He  was  also  care- 
ful to  touch  his  bonnet  when  his  fictitious  master 
spoke  to  him  while  any  one  was  passing  by.  They 
set  out  in  the  evening  and  travelled  all  night.  The 
journey  was  long  and  wearisome  ;  more  than  thir- 
ty miles,  over  hill,  heath,  and  morass.  In  walking, 
Charles  was  more  than  a  match  for  his  companion, 
and  he  declared  that,  provided  he  was  not  within 
musket-shot,  he  would  have  no  fear  of  being  cap- 
tured by  English  soldiers.  Malcolm  asked  him 
what  they  should  do  if  they  were  taken  by  surprise. 
"  Fight,  to  be  sure,"  replied  the  prince.  Malcolm 
said  that  if  their  assailants  did  not  exceed  four  in 
number,  he  thought  he  could  manage  two  of  them, 
and  Charles  promised  to  be  answerable  for  the  two 
that  might  fall  to  his  share.  Yet  they  were  in  no 
favourable  condition  for  fighting,  wearied  as  they 
were,  and  having  had  no  food  for  many  hours ; 
their  only  refreshment  had  been  a  little  brandy, 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  33 

with  water  from  the  spring,  the  last  glass  of  which 
Charles  insisted  that  Malcolm  should  drink,  as  he 
himself  could  do  without  it. 

Their  tedious  journey  ended  at  Ellagol,  near 
Kilmarie,  in  the  southwest  corner  of  the  island. 
Malcolm  had  a  sister  living  there,  whose  husband, 
John  Mackinnon,  had  been  a  captain  in  the  prince's 
army,  and  might  therefore  be  trusted.  Mackinnon 
was  from  home,  but  his  wife  received  them  kindly. 
Charles  was  introduced  to  her  as  his  servant  Louis 
Caw,  who  had  fallen  ill  on  the  road.  At  table, 
Malcolm  desired  Louis  to  sit  down  with  them,  as 
there  was  no  company ;  an  invitation  which  the 
seeming  servant  accepted  with  a  well-acted  show 
of  thankfulness  and  humility.  According  to  High- 
land custom,  water  w-\s  brought  in  after  dinner  to 
wash  the  feet  of  tho  guests.  The  old  crone  who 
brought  it  having  washed  Malcolm's  feet,  he  re- 
quested her  to  perform  the  same  office  for  his  at- 
tendant. Her  Highland  blood  was  fired  by  what 
she  thought  an  insult,  and  she  warmly  exclaimed, 
with  a  Gaelic  redundancy  of  speech,  "  Though  I 
have  washed  your  father's  son's  feet,  why  should 
I  wash  his  father's  son's  feet  ?"  She  was  at  last 
prevailed  on  to  do  it,  however,  as  an  act  of  human- 
ity, though  her  humanity  was  displayed  with  a 
very  ill  grace.  She  rubbed  Charles  so  roughly 
that  he  complained ;  but,  instead  of  an  apology,  he 
was  greeted  with,  "  Filthy  fellow,  it  ill  becomes 
the  like  of  you  to  murmur  at  anything  my  father's 
daughter  could  do  to  you !"  The  next  morning 
he  gave  her  fresh  offence.  Having  taken  but  two 
hours'  rest,  he  had  long  been  up,  and  was  dandling 
Mrs.  Mackinnon's  infant,  when  Malcolm,  who  had 
24—3 


34  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

•only  just  risen,  came  into  the  room,  and  expressed 
'his  surprise  at  seeing  him  so  actively  engaged  and 
so  little  affected  by  the  previous  fatigue.  "  Who 
'knows,"  said  the  prince,  "  but  this  boy  may  here- 
after be  a  captain  in  my  service  ?"  This  remark 
must,  under  the  apparent  circumstances,  have 
sounded  strangely  to  the  testy  dame,  and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  she  corrected  him  by  saying,  "  Or 
you,  rather,  an  old  sergeant  in  his  company !" 

Mackinnon  now  returned,  and  was  delighted  to 
hear  that  the  prince  was  under  his  roof.  Charles 
was  resolved  to  go  to  the  mainland,  and  it  was  set- 
tled that  Mackinnon  should  go  to  his  chief  and  hire 
a  boat  for  that  purpose,  without,  however,  letting 
him  into  the  secret.  But  John  had  not  the  reten- 
tive faculty ;  and,  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  he 
made  everything  known  to  the  laird.  The  old 
chief,  who  was  a  warm  friend  of  the  Stuarts,  di- 
rectly ordered  out  his  boat,  and  set  off  with  his  wife 
to  welcome  the  prince.  He  carried  with  him  some 
wine  and  provisions,  and  the  whole  party  partook  of 
them  in  a  neighbouring  cave.  There  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  the  old  laird  and  Mackinnon  should 
conduct  Charles  to  the  mainland,  Malcolm  being 
left  behind  to  mislead  the  enemies  in  case  of  their 
pursuing.  After  smoking  a  pipe  with  Malcolm, 
giving  him  a  silver  stock-buckle  and  "  the  cutty" 
as  tokens  of  remembrance,  and  compelling  him  to 
receive  ten  guineas  to  bear  his  expenses  while  he 
was  concealed,  Charles  bade  him  an  affectionate 
farewell,  and  departed,  late  in  the  evening,  from 
Skye.  Two  English  ships  were  in  sight,  bearing 
down  in  a  direction  towards  him,  but  he  insisted  on 
proceeding,  being  convinced,  he  said,  that  P»ovi- 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  36 

dence  would  protect  him.  The  wind  soon  veering 
round,  the  ships  stood  upon  another  tuck,  and  he 
passed  unseen.  The  voyage,  which  was  of  thirty 
miles,  was  tempestuous.  The  roughness  of  thq 
weather,  however,  proved  eventually  a  favourable 
circumstance;  for  it  prevented  them  from  being 
stopped  by  a  boat  full  of  soldiers  who  hailed  them. 
Charles  landed,  on  the  morning  of  the  5th  of  July, 
at  Little  Mallag,  on  the  southern  shore  of  Loch 
Nevish. 

The  coast  of  the  western  part  of  Inverness-shire, 
where  the  prince  landed,  is  intersected  by  several 
lochs,  which  indent  the  country  deeply,  thus  form* 
ing  a  series  of  alternate  inlets  and  peninsulas. 
Passing  from  north  to  south,  there  are  the  lochs  of 
Duich,  Hourn,  Nevish,  Morrer,  Aylort,  and  Ranach, 
of  which  the  last  two  are  united,  and  Moydart  and 
Shell,  which  also  communicate  with  each  other. 
Taken  in  the  same  order,  the  peninsular  districts 
between  them  are  named  Glenelg,  Knoydart,  Mor- 
rer, Arasaig,  and  Moydart.  They  are  wild  and 
mountainous,  varying  in  breadth  from  five  to  ten 
miles,  and  the  hills  which  compose  them  join,  or, 
rather,  are  ramifications  from,  a  mountainous  chain 
which  runs  north  and  south,  from  Loch  Shiel  into 
Ross-shire.  Over  this  chain  pass  the  roads,  which 
in  those  days  were  merely  paths,  from  the  seacoast 
to  Glengarry,  Glenmorisson,  and  other  glens,  ter- 
minating to  the  eastward  at  the  great  line  of  lakes 
which  insulates  the  north  of  Scotland. 

The  return  of  Charles  to  the  mainland  was 
speedily  known  by  his  enemies,  and  measures  were 
taken  to  hunt  him  down  before  he  could  quit  the 
circumscribed  district  which  has  just  been  descri- 


36  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

bed.  If  they  could  confine  him  within  its  limns, 
there  was  a  great  probability  that  he  would  fall  into 
their  hands ;  or,  if  he  again  sought  shelter  in  the 
neighbouring  islands,  that  he  would  be  captured  by 
the  British  cruisers.  To  prevent  his  escape  from 
the  circle,  a  chain  of  strong  posts  was  formed 
along  the  mountain  range,  extending  from  the  head 
of  Loch  Hourn  to  the  head  of  Loch  Sheil.  These 
posts  were  connected  by  sentinels  stationed  within 
sight  of  each  other.  Not  a  traveller  was  suffered 
to  pass  during  the  day  without  a  rigid  examination. 
At  night,  large  fires  were  lighted  at  the  several 
posts,  and  the  sentinels  were  kept  in  constant  mo- 
tion, crossing  from  one  fire  to  the  other,  so  as  to 
leave  no  space  untraversed  throughout  the  whole 
extent  of  the  line. 

For  three  nights  after  his  return  to  the  mainland 
Charles  and  his  party  slept  in  the  open  fields.  Two 
of  the  fugitives  were  then  sent  in  search  of  a  cave 
for  an  abode,  and,  in  the  mean  while,  the  prince, 
with  four  companions,  rowed  up  Loch  Nevish.  As 
they  were  rounding  a  point,  they  were  discovered 
and  pursued  by  a  boat  full  of  militiamen.  The 
fugitives,  however,  plied  their  oars  so  vigorously 
that  their  pursuers  were  soon  left  too  far  behind  to 
think  of  continuing  the  chase.  After  a  short  stay 
at  Mallag,  they  crossed  the  hills  between  the  Lochs 
of  Nevish  and  Morrer,  with  the  purpose  of  procu- 
ring an  asylum  at  Morrer  House,  the  seat  of  Lieuten- 
ant-colonel Macdonald.  On  their  way  they  came 
to  a  hut,  in  which,  as  they  were  approaching  it,  they 
saw  some  people  ;  and  Charles,  who  feared  that  he 
might  be  known,  desired  Mackinnon  to  fold  his  plaid 
for  him  in  the  true  Highland  manner,  and  throw  it 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDW.  RD.  37 

over  his  shoulder,  with  his  knapsack  upon  it.  He 
then  tied  a  handkerchief  round  his  head,  settled  hia 
features  to  the  character  which  he  assumed,  and 
appeared  as  a  servant  again.  At  the  hut  he  was 
not  recognised,  and  he  and  his  companions  were 
refreshed  with  a  draught  of  milk.  When  they  ar- 
rived at  Morrer  House  they  found  it  reduced  to  a 
pile  of  scorched  and  blackened  ruins,  and  its  mas- 
ter  living  in  a  neighbouring  hut.  Macdonald,  nev- 
ertheless, gave  them  a  hospitable  welcome,  and 
sheltered  them  in  a  cave,  where  they  enjoyed  ten 
hours'  sleep. 

As  Macdonald  of  Morrer  was  not  in  a  condition 
to  succour  him,  the  prince  resolved  to  cross  the  loch 
into  Arasaig,  and  throw  himself  upon  Macdonald  of 
Borodale,  from  whom  he  doubted  not  of  meeting 
with  a  cordial  reception.  But,  when  he  reached 
Borodale,  he  found  the  mansion  consumed,  and  the 
laird,  like  his  namesake,  abiding  in  a  hut.  This 
wretched  dwelling  Macdonald  willingly  shared  with 
his  dangerous  guest.  Receiving  intelligence  which 
gave  reason  to  believe  that  the  hut  would  be  an  un- 
safe residence  for  Charles,  his  host  removed  him  to 
an  almost  unknown  and  inaccessible  cave,  about 
four  miles  to  the  east.  There  the  prince  remain- 
ed till  the  coming  of  Glenaladale,  one  of  his  most 
attached  followers,  to  whom  he  had  sent  a  message 
to  join  him. 

The  departure  of  Charles  was  hastened  by  a  let- 
ter from  a  gentleman  in  the  peninsula  of  Morrer, 
who  stated  that  his  place  of  concealment  began  to 
be  known,  and  offered  him  one  which  was  more  se- 
cure. The  prince  sent  Ronald  Macdonald  to  as- 
certain whether  the  new  spot  was  really  preferable. 


3ft  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

but  he  did  not  wait  his  return ;  for  an  alarm  being 
given  that  an  English  tender  was  hovering  on  the 
coast,  he  thought  it  prudent  to  proceed  without  loss 
of  time  to  Glen  Morrer.  On  his  way  thither  he 
was  met  by  a  messenger,  who  informed  him  that 
Clanronald  was  a  few  miles  off,  and  had  prepared 
a  safe  asylum  for  him.  Charles,  however,  who  was 
near  Glejp  Morrer,  determined  to  rest  there  for  the 
night,  and  proceed  to  meet  Clanronald  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

But  the  prince  was  not  destined  to  avail  himself 
of  Clanronald's  services.  In  the  course  of  the 
night,  tidings  were  brought  to  the  laird  of  Borodale 
that  General  Campbell,  with  several  men-of-war 
and  a  large  body  of  troops,  had  cast  anchor  in  Loch 
Nevish,  and  also  that  Captain  Scott  had  advanced 
with  five  hundred  men  into  the  lower  part  of  Ara- 
saig.  This  was  a  heavy  blow  to  the  prince  ;  he 
was  now  completely  hemmed  in,  and  must  either 
break  through  the  net  which  enveloped  him,  or  in- 
evitably perish.  Not  an  instant  was  to  be  lost,  for 
every  moment  would  contract  the  circle  which  en- 
closed him.  It  was,  indeed,  doubtful  even  now 
whether  with  his  best  diligence  and  skill  he  would 
be  able  to  find  a  penetrable  point  in  the  line  of  posts 
and  sentinels  by  which  every  outlet  was  watched. 
Leaving  behind  him  all  his  attendants  save  Glen- 
aladale  and  two  other  Macdonalds,  he  set  out  early, 
and  halted  at  noon  to  take  refreshment  on  the  hill 
of  Scoorveig,  in  the  eastern  extremity  of  Arasaig, 
whence  he  proceeded  to  the  top  of  a  hill  called 
Fruighvain,  from  which  they  perceived  some  men 
driving  cattle.  They  proved  to  be  Glenaladale's 
tenants,  removing  the  cattle  out  of  the  reach  of 


PRINCE   CHARLES   EDWARD.  39 

several  hundred  of  the  king's  troops  who  had  come 
to  the  head  of  Loch  Arkeig  for  the  purpose  of 
•hutting  in  Charles  upon  that  side.  On  their  set- 
ting out  from  Morrer,  they  had  intended  to  reach 
in  the  evening  a  hill  named  Swerninck  Corrichan, 
near  Loch  Arkeig,  and  Glenaladale's  brother  had 
been  sent  to  Glenfinnen,  to  direct  two  men  to  join 
the  prince  on  that  eminence.  A  messenger  was 
now  despatched  to  recall  the  brother,  and  a  second 
to  summon  Donald  Cameron,  who  was  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood,  and  was  excellently  qualified  to  act  as 
guide. 

While  the  perplexed  and  weary  fugitives  were 
waiting  for  the  return  of  these  men,  a  wife  of  one 
of  Glenaladale's  tenants,  in  pity  to  her  landlord, 
brought  some  milk  for  him  up  the  hill.  The  weath- 
er was  sultry,  and  they  were  suffering  from  thirst ; 
yet,  welcome  as  this  refreshment  was,  Glenaladale 
would  rather  the  donor  had  been  less  kind,  as  he 
dreaded  the  chance  of  the  prince  being  recognised. 
But  Charles  did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind  :  as 
she  approached,  he  covered  his  head  with  a  hand, 
kerchief,  playing  the  part  of  a  servant  tormented 
by  headache.  A  trifling  circumstance  prolonged 
her  stay.  Glenaladale,  who  wished  to  preserve 
part  of  the  milk  for  the  prince,  was  obliged  to  re- 
tain the  pail ;  and  he  found  it  rather  difficult  to 
persuade  her  to  depart  without  a  utensil  so  indis- 
pensable in  her  domestic  economy. 

The  man  who  had  been  sent  to  recall  Glenala- 
dale's brother  now  came  back.  He  had  seen  nei- 
ther that  gentleman  nor  the  two  men ;  they  were 
gone  to  the  place  which  the  prince  had  named. 
But,  though  he  missed  seeing  them,  he  had  discov- 


40  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

ered  something  which  alarmed  his  hearers  beyond 
measure.  He  informed  them,  that  upward  of  a 
hundred  of  the  Argyle  militia  were  approaching  the 
foot  of  the  hill  on  which  they  then  stood.  This 
news  rendered  it  necessary  to  flee  at  once,  without 
waiting  for  Cameron.  The  sun  was  setting  when 
they  began  their  hurried  march.  At  about  eleven 
o'clock,  as  they  were  stealing  through  a  hollow  be- 
tween two  hills,  a  man  was  seen  descending  towards 
them.  Glenaladale  stepped  forward  to  ascertain 
whether  the  stranger  was  an  enemy,  and  was  de- 
lighted to  find  it  was  Donald  Cameron.  Under  the 
guidance  of  Donald,  they  travelled  all  night  through 
wild  and  gloomy  paths,  which  even  in  open  day 
would  have  been  difficult  to  traverse  ;  and  at  four 
in  the  morning  they  reached  the  summit  of  the 
mountain  called  Mamryn  Callum,  in  the  braes  of 
Loch  Arkeig.  In  the  prospect  stretched  out  be- 
fore them,  their  sight  encountered  one  object  by  no 
means  agreeable :  at  scarcely  the  distance  of  a 
mile  from  them  there  was  a  camp  of  the  royal  for- 
ces. Danger  from  the  proximity  of  the  enemy 
was  at  present,  however,  rather  apparent  than  real ; 
Cameron  knew  that  the  mountain  had  been  careful- 
ly  explored  the  day  before,  and  he  rationally  con- 
cluded that  the  search  would  not  immediately  be 
repeated.  A  sharp  look-out  was  nevertheless  kept. 
Here  they  remained  during  the  day,  obtained  two 
hours'  sleep,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  being  rejoined 
by  Glenaladale's  brother,  whom  they  had  given  up 
for  lost. 

Bending  their  course  southward,  they  set  out  at 
nine  in  the  evening,  and  after  four  hours'  march 
reached  Corrinangaul,  between  Knoydart  and  Lcoh 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  41 

Arkeig.  Here  Cameron  expected  he  should  be 
able  to  purchase  provisions  from  some  of  the  coun- 
try-people, who  had  driven  their  cattle  hither  to 
save  them  from  the  soldiery.  The  party  had  fared 
but  scantily  during  their  wearisome  journey,  and  all 
their  present  stock  of  food  consisted  of  a  little  but. 
ter  and  oatmeal,  which  they  could  not  prepare  for 
eating,  as  it  was  dangerous  to  kindle  a  fire  while 
their  enemies  were  so  near.  When,  however, 
Glenaladale  and  Cameron  went  down  to  the  huts, 
they  found  them  deserted,  and  were  obliged  to  re- 
turn empty-handed.  The  place  where  they  were 
not  appearing  entirely  secure,  they  removed  to  a 
fastness  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  at  the  head  of  Loch 
Naigh.  There  they  resolved  to  pass  the  day,  and 
to  sleep  for  a  while,  that  they  might  be  in  better 
condition  to  make  the  perilous  attempt  of  penetra- 
ting through  the  hostile  line :  an  attempt  which 
could  no  longer  be  delayed.  Within  the  distance 
of  a  mile  there  was  an  English  encampment. 
While  the  rest  of  the  party  were  slumbering,  Cam. 
e»-on  and  Glenaladale's  brother  again  went  in  quest 
of  food.  It  was  three  in  the  afternoon  before  they 
returned,  and  two  small  cheeses  were  all  they  had 
procured.  The  tidings  they  brought  were  by  no 
means  comforting,  for  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hill  there  were  upward  of  a  hundred  soldiers,  bu- 
sily employed  in  searching  for  the  country-people 
who  had  concealed  themselves.  This  made  them 
keep  close  for  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  they  remain- 
ed undiscovered,  though  the  troops  were  roaming 
all  around  them. 

Towards  night,  the  soldiers  being  withdrawn, 
the   coast  was  left   clear  for  the   retreat  of  the 


42  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

prince  and  his  followers.  They  sallied  from  their 
hiding-place  at  eight  in  the  evening,  and  pressed 
forward  at  their  best  speed  to  the  rugged  eminence 
of  Drumachosi,  up  which  they  climbed.  Directly 
before  them  the  fires  of  an  English  camp  were 
burning.  In  reconnoitring  this  post,  they  advan- 
ced  so  near  that  the  voices  of  the  soldiers  were 
distinctly  audible.  They  then  ascended  a  neigh- 
bouring bill,  and  beheld  from  it  the  fires  of  another 
camp.  It  was  between  the  Scylla  and  Charybdis 
of  these  two  posts  that  they  must  steer  their  haz- 
ardous course. 

With  a  devotedness  in  his  situation  doubly 
praiseworthy,  Cameron  volunteered  to  go  forward 
alone,  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  a  possibility 
of  effecting  a  passage  at  this  point.  "  If,"  said  he, 
"  I  get  back,  you  may  venture  with  more  confi- 
dence, and  I  shall  be  better  able  to  guide  you.** 
It  is  probable  that  when  he  made  this  offer  he 
looked  upon  himself  as  going  to  certain  death. 
Highlanders  were  at  that  period  peculiarly  subject 
to  superstitious  feelings,  and  Cameron  was  then 
under  the  influence  of  one  of  those  feelings.  He 
had  been  complaining  that  his  nose  itched,  and  he 
considered  it  an  infallible  indication  that  they  were 
in  extreme  danger.  Yet  such  was  his  native  bra- 
very, and  his  affection  for  the  son  of  the  man  «vhom 
he  regarded  as  his  sovereign,  that  he  was  proof 
against  omens.  We  may  pity  his  weakness,  but 
must  admire  the  courage  and  fidelity  which  over- 
came it. 

There  are  moments  when  the  mind  transiently 
feels  the  power  of  notions  which  it  holds  in  utter 
contempt.  Charles  had  smiled  at  Cameron's  ab- 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  43 

surd  forebodings;  but,  though  he  thought  them 
ridiculous,  his  anxiety  to  see  him  return  was  per- 
haps increased  by  them.  The  daring  explorer  did 
return,  in  spite  of  all  sinister  auguries,  and  he  made 
an  encouraging  report.  Two  circumstances  were 
favourable  to  the  party.  While  the  patrols  were 
alternately  passing  between  the  posts,  they  neces- 
sarily turned  their  backs  on  each  other  during  a 
part  of  the  time,  and  a  chance  was  thus  offered  of 
eluding  their  vigilance.  It  was  another  advantage 
that  where  they  purposed  to  break  through  there 
was  a  deep  and  narrow  ravine,  hollowed  out  by 
the  floods,  which  in  winter  converted  an  insignifi- 
cant mountain  stream  into  a  furious  torrent.  At 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the  pa- 
trols were  supposed  to  be  retiring  on  either  hand, 
the  fugitives  silently  entered  the  ravine.  Crawl- 
ing on  their  hands  and  knees,  and  scarcely  daring 
to  breathe,  they  toiled  up  it,  and  at  length,  to  their 
inexpressible  joy,  emerged  beyond  the  line  of  posts 
and  sentinels.  In  a  few  minutes  they  arrived  at  a 
spot  where  they  were  safe  from  being  seen.  The 
magic  circle  which  had  so  long  hemmed  them  in 
was  thus  broken,  and  they  had  at  least  regained 
the  power  of  choosing  to  what  quarter  they  would 
direct  their  flight. 

Charles  now  laughingly  asked  Cameron  how  his 
nose  felt,  to  which  the  Highlander  replied  that  it 
was  much  better,  but  was  still  rather  uncomforta- 
ble. As  the  best  mode  to  complete  its  cure  was 
to  get  out  of  danger,  they  walked  on  for  about  two 
miles  till  they  came  to  Corriscorridil,  on  the  Glen- 
elg  side  of  Loch  Hourn.  There,  having  found  a 
secluded  spot,  they  sat  down  to  refresh  themselves. 
D 


44  PERILOUS    iDVENTURES. 

The  repast  was  an  humble  one  ;  it  consisted  of  a 
slice  of  cheese,  which,  as  they  had  no  bread,  the'* 
covered  with  oatmeal.  Their  drink  was  procured 
from  a  neighbouring  spring.  They  remained  on 
this  spot  the  rest  of  the  day,  debating  upon  their 
future  movements  ;  and  it  was  finally  decided  that 
they  should  direct  their  course  northward,  to  a 
part  of  the  Mackenzies'  country,  which  was  not 
infested  by  the  military.  They  set  out  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  discovered  that  they 
had  passed  the  whole  day  within  cannon-shot  of 
two  English  camps,  into  one  of  which  they  could 
see  a  company  of  soldiers  driving  a  flock  of  sheep 
for  slaughter.  Quickening  their  pace,  they  pur- 
sued  their  journey  till  three  in  the  morning,  when 
they  entered  Glenshiel,  a  solitary  vale  on  the  Earl 
of  Seaforth's  estate. 

The  party  having  no  provisions,  Glenaladale  and 
one  of  the  Macdonalds  went  to  seek  for  a  supply. 
They  aleo  meant  to  find  a  guide  to  conduct  them 
to  Pollew,  on  the  seacoast,  off  which  place  some 
French  vessels  had  recently  been  seen.  While 
they  were  on  this  quest  they  fell  in  with  a  Glen- 
garry man,  whom  the  soldiers,  who  had  killed  his 
father  the  day  before,  had  hunted  out  of  his  own 
country  that  morning.  This  man  had  served  in 
the  prince's  army ;  and,  knowing  that  he  was  brave 
and  faithful,  Glenaladale  retained  him  to  act  as 
their  conductor  in  case  they  should  be  disappoint- 
ed in  their  new  design  of  proceeding  to  Pollew. 
It  was  well  he  did  so  ;  for  he  was  soon  informed 
that  the  only  French  ship  which  had  appeared  was 
gone,  and  that,  even  if  it  had  remained,  no  person 
could  have  been  procured  to  lead  them  to  the 


PRINCE  CHARLES    EDWARD.  45 

coast.  After  partaking  of  some  food  which  Glen, 
aladale  had  obtained,  they  laid  themselves  down  in 
a  safe  spot  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  enjoyed  a  few 
hours'  sleep.  As  the  services  of  Donald  Cameron 
could  no  longer  be  useful,  he  now  bade  them  fare- 
well. 

Late  at  night  they  set  out,  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Glengarry  man,  and  bent  their  course  in  the 
direction  of  Glenmorisson.  They  had  not  gone 
more  than  half  a  mile  before  Glenaladale  discov. 
ered  that  he  had  lost  his  purse,  containing  forty 
guineas,  which  belonged  to  the  prince,  and  was  all 
the  money  they  possessed.  Charles  wished  to 
dissuade  him  from  going  back  in  search  of  it ; 
but  the  latter  pointed  out  the  straits  to  which  they 
would  be  reduced  by  the  want  of  it,  and  his  argu- 
ments prevailed.  Glenaladale,  accordingly,  with 
one  of  the  Macdonalds,  went  to  seek  for  the  purse, 
and  Charles,  the  other  Macdonald,  and  the  guide 
made  a  halt  to  wait  for  their  return.  The  prince 
and  his  companions  stepped  aside  from  the  path, 
and  in  a  short  time  they  perceived  an  officer  and 
two  soldiers  who  were  armed  advancing  along  it. 
They  hid  themselves  behind  a  rock,  and  the  mil- 
itary passed  by  without  seeing  them.  Had  Glen- 
aladale  not  gone  back,  the  fugitives  would  have 
come  full  face  upon  their  enemies.  Thanking 
Providence  for  his  own  narrow  escape,  the  prince 
felt  considerable  anxiety  with  respect  to  the  safety 
of  his  absent  friends.  Glenaladale  and  Macdonald, 
however,  came  back  unhurt.  They  had  taken 
another  road  on  their  return,  and  consequently  had 
not  been  met  by  the  English  party.  The  purse, 
too.  was  regained.  It  had  been  found  by  a  little 


40  PERILOUS    ADVEiNTUKES. 

boy  who  had  brought  them  some  milk  to  their  for- 
mer  resting-place.  Charles  was  so  elated  by  this 
deliverance,  that  he  declared  "  he  did  not  believe 
he  should  be  taken,  even  though  he  had  a  mind 
to  be  so." 

The  march  was  continued  through  the  remainder 
of  the  night,  and  the  next  morning  they  paused  in 
Strathcluanie,  a  small  vale  which  forms  the  western 
extremity  of  Glenmorisson.  There  they  selected 
a  safe  spot  on  a  hillside,  and  rested  till  three 
in  the  afternoon,  when  they  pursued  their  way. 
Scarcely  had  they  travelled  a  mile  before  feelings 
of  grief  and  anger,  not  unmixed  with  apprehen- 
sion, were  excited  in  their  minds  by  hearing  the 
troops  firing  on  the  hill  above  them.  The  military 
ruffians  were  wantonly  shooting  the  poor  peasants, 
who  had  fled  to  these  mountain  fastnesses  with  their 
cattle.  The  mental  gloom  thus  thrown  over  the 
prince  and  his  followers  was  deepened  by  the  per. 
sonal  discomfort  they  were  enduring.  They  were 
famished  and  toilworn,  and  the  rain  poured  down 
without  intermission  during  the  whole  of  their 
journey.  It  was  late  at  night  when  the  wanderers 
halted  on  the  top  of  a  hill  between  Glenmorisson 
and  Strathglass,  and  there  their  situation  waa 
no  better  than  it  had  been  throughout  the  day. 
Drenched  with  wet,  and  unable  to  procure  a  fire, 
they  were  obliged  to  huddle  into  an  open  cave, 
where  they  could  neither  lie  down  nor  sleep,  and 
where  their  only  solace  was  a  pipe  of  tobacco. 

In  pursuance  of  the  plan  for  taking  shelter  among 
the  Mackenzies,  they  continued  their  route  towards 
Ross-shire.  By  the  time  they  reached  the  braes  of 
Kintail  they  were  almost  sinking  for  want  of  food. 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  47 

The  district  in  which  they  were  travelling  was  in- 
habited  by  an  uncivilized  clan,  called  the  Macraws, 
among  whom  there  were  few  gentlemen.  As,  how- 
ever, it  was  indispensable  to  obtain  provisions, 
Glenaladale  went  to  the  house  of  one  Christopher 
Macraw,  and  desired  that  he  would  supply  them 
with  some,  as  he  and  two  of  his  friends  were  almost 
dying  with  hunger.  Macraw  insisted  upon  know, 
ing  who  the  friends  were,  to  which  Glenaladale 
prudently  replied  that  they  were  the  young  Clan- 
ronald  and  a  relation  of  his  own.  Upon  this,  the 
churl  consented  to  furnish  them  with  some  victuals, 
for  which  he  took  care  to  make  them  pay  an  ex- 
travagant  price.  The  liberal  remuneration  seemed 
to  open  his  heart  a  little,  and  he  accordingly  invi- 
ted them  to  pass  the  night  at  his  house.  His  invi- 
tation was  accepted.  It  was  fortunate  indeed  that 
Glenaladale  had  concealed  the  prince's  name ;  for 
"  in  the  course  of  conversation,  Macraw  exclaimed 
against  the  Highlanders  who  had  taken  up  arms 
for  Charles,  and  said  that  they  and  those  who  still 
protected  him  were  fools  and  madmen,  and  that 
they  ought  to  deliver  themselves  and  their  country 
from  distress  by  giving  him  up,  and  taking  the  re* 
ward  which  the  government  had  offered." 

That  evening  a  Macdonald,  who  had  served  in 
the  prince's  army,  came  to  Macraw 's  house,  knew 
Charles,  and  earnestly  entreated  Glenaladale  to 
take  care  that  Christopher  did  not  discover  the 
quality  of  his  guest :  a  caution  which  was  kindly 
meant,  but  which  Macraw  himself  had  unconscious- 
ly rendered  needless.  Finding  that  this  man  waa 
warmly  attached  to  the  prince,  and  that  he  had 
traversed  the  country  in  various  directions*  Glen 


48  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

aladale  made  known  to  him  their  scheme  of  seek- 
ing an  asylum  among  the  Mackenzies,  and  desired 
him  to  give  his  opinion  as  to  the  course  which  it 
would  be  safest  to  pursue.  The  plan  of  journeying 
into  Ross-shire  Macdonald  considered  to  be  fraught 
with  danger,  some  of  the  royal  troops  being  then 
among  the  Mackenzies ;  and  he  suggested  a  more 
eligible  place  of  refuge.  He  had,  he  said,  spent 
the  preceding  night  on  the  great  mountain  of  Co- 
rado,  which  lies  between  Kintail  and  Glenmorisson, 
in  the  most  remote  part  of  which  mountain,  called 
Corambiam,  there  dwelt  seven  men,  upon  whom  the 
prince  might  implicitly  depend,  they  being  brave 
and  faithful,  and  most  of  them  having  borne  arms 
in  his  cause. 

Charles  had  long  been  anxiously  wishing  to  join, 
or,  if  that  could  not  be  effected,  at  least  to  get  near- 
er to,  his  friends  Lochiel  and  Clunie,  who  were 
secreted  in  that  part  of  Inverness-shire  which  com- 
prises the  districts  of  Lochaber  and  Badenoch. 
To  remove  into  Ross-shire  would  separate  him 
more  widely  from  them,  and  he  therefore  gladly 
acceded  to  a  project  which,  on  the  contrary,  had 
the  recommendation  of  bringing  him  closer  to  his 
trusty  partisans.  The  persons  to  whom  he  was 
about  intrusting  himself  were  in  fact  robbers  ;  but 
this  circumstance  afforded  no  reason  for  suspect- 
ing that  they  would  betray  him  ;  they  were  men 
proscribed  for  their  fidelity  to  the  Stuart  race  ; 
men  whom  hard  necessity,  not  vice,  had  driven  into 
the  Highland  solitudes,  and  deprived  of  all  means 
of  subsistence  but  such  as  they  could  seize  upon 
in  their  predatory  excursions.  v;,, 

After  having  been  forty-eight  hour?  without  food, 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWAilD.  49 

Charles  and  his  fellows  approached  the  spot  where 
their  new  hosts  resided.  It  was  a  rocky  cave,  in 
the  side  of  the  most  wild  and  craggy  part  of  the 
mountain.  Glenaladale  and  the  guide  went  on  to 
the  cave,  leaving  Charles  and  the  two  Macdonalds 
at  a  little  distance.  Six  of  the  men  were  just  sit- 
ting down  to  dine  upon  a  sheep  which  they  had 
killed  that  day.  Glenaladale  congratulated  them 
on  their  good  cheer,  and  they  hospitably  invited 
him  to  partake  of  it.  He  had,  he  said,  another 
friend,  for  whom  he  must  request  the  same  favour. 
They  inquired  who  his  friend  was,  and  he  told 
them  that  it  was  his  chief,  young  Clanronald. 
Heartily  welcome  should  Clanronald  be,  they  re- 
plied ;  they  would  gain  food  for  him  at  the  points 
of  their  swords.  Charles  was  now  introduced,  and, 
notwithstanding  his  deplorable  plight,  was  instant- 
ly recognised  by  his  humble  friends,  who  threw 
themselves  on  their  knees  to  do  him  homage.  The 
ceremony  being  over,  the  prince  gladly  shared  in 
their  repast,  and  afterward  resigned  himself  to 
sleep,  of  which  he  stood  in  great  need. 

With  respect  to  attire,  Charles  was,  perhaps,  at 
this  moment  in  a  worse  condition  than  any  of  his 
adherents  in  the  cave.  Hugh  Chisholm,  who  was 
one  of  them,  thus  describes  the  prince's  garb  :  "  He 
had  a  bonnet  on  his  head,  and  a  wretched  yellow 
wig  ;  a  clouted  handkerchief  about  his  neck.  He 
had  a  coat  of  coarse,  dark-coloured  cloth,  a  Stir- 
ling tartan  waistcoat,  much  worn,  a  pretty  good 
belted  plaid,  tartan  hose,  and  Highland  brogues 
tied  wilh  thongs,  so  much  worn  that  they  would 
scarcely  stick  upon  his  feet.  His  shirt,  and  he  had 
,iot  another,  was  of  the  colour  of  saffnn."  The 
24—4 


60  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

defects  of  his  dress,  as  far  as  regarded  linen,  were 
speedily  remedied  by  his  active  and  zealous  asso- 
ciates. Having  obtained  information  that  a  de- 
tachment of  the  royal  troops,  headed  by  Lord 
George  Sackville,  was  ordered  to  march  from  Fort 
Augustus  to  Strathglass,  and  must  pass  not  far  from 
their  abode,  they  laid  an  ambuscade  to  plunder  the 
baggage.  Allowing  the  troops  to  get  out  of  sight, 
they  sallied  forth  upon  the  servants,  who  were 
lagging  behind,  and  made  themselves  masters  of 
some  portmanteaus,  the  contents  of  which  relieved 
Charles,  for  the  present,  from  the  necessity  of 
wearing  a  saffron-coloured  shirt. 

With  these  men  the  prince  remained  above 
three  weeks,  in  which  time  they  more  than  once 
changed  their  habitation.  In  one  instance  he 
lodged  for  three  days  in  a  sheepcote,  having  a  bed 
made  for  him  of  turf,  with  the  grassy  side  upward, 
and  a  pillow  of  the  same  material.  As  they  never 
removed  beyond  a  few  miles  from  Fort  Augustus, 
some  of  them  used  frequently  to  go  thither  at 
night  to  procure  intelligence  from  the  villagers, 
and  occasionally  they  brought  the  newspapers  for 
his  perusal.  But,  kindly  as  he  was  treated  by 
them,  Charles,  either  from  restlessness  or  a  desire 
of  better  society,  expressed  to  Glenaladale  his  wish 
"  to  put  himself  into  the  hands  of  some  of  the 
neighbouring  gentlemen,  and  desired  him  to  inquire 
about  them,  and  learn  who  was  the  most  propei 
person  for  him  to  apply  to."  Glenaladale  began  to 
execute  his  commission  by  talking  of  the  gentle* 
men  in  the  vicinity,  and  inquiring  their  characters. 
The  shrewd  Highlanders  at  once  guessed  what 
was  meant  by  the  questions,  and  entreated  him  to 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  51 

dissuade  .the  prince  from  carrying  his  purpose  into 
effect.  "  No  reward,"  they  said,  "  could  be  any 
temptation  to  them  ;  for  if  they  betrayed  the  prince 
they  must  leave  the  country,  as  nobody  would 
speak  to  them  except  to  curse  them ;  whereas 
thirty  thousand  pounds  was  a  great  reward  to  a 
poor  gentleman,  who  could  go  to  Edinburgh  or 
London  with  his  money,  where  he  would  find  peo- 
ple enough  to  live  with  him,  and  eat  his  meat  and 
drink  his  wine." 

About  this  lime  an  event  took  place  which  con- 
tributed  greatly  to  relax  the  hot  pursuit  after  the 
princely  fugitive.  There  had  fled  for  shelter  to 
the  bills  of  Glenmorisson  a  young  gentleman  of 
Edinburgh,  named  Roderic  McKenzie,  who  had 
been  in  the  Scottish  army.  He  was  tall  and  gen- 
teel, well  dressed,  nearly  the  size  and  age  of 
Charles,  and  bore  that  distant  resemblance  to  him 
in  features  which  might  easily  cause  persons  who 
had  seldom  seen  them  to  be  mistaken  as  to  their 
identity.  One  day  he  was  fallen  in  with  by  a 
party  of  soldiers.  Having  vainly  tried  to  escape, 
and  knowing  that  he  had  no  mercy  to  expect,  he 
resolved,  not  only  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  pos- 
sible, but  also  to  render  his  fall  beneficial  to  the 
prince,  under  whose  standard  he  had  combated. 
The  heroic  feeling  and  presence  of  mind  which  at 
such  a  moment  could  inspire  so  noble  an  idea,  can- 
not be  too  much  admired.  His  dress,  his  manners, 
and  his  desperate  resistance  all  combined  to  make 
them  believe  that  he  was  the  man  whom  they  were 
seeking.  To  secure  at  once  their  own  safety  and 
their  valuable  prize,  they  fired,  and  the  victim  fell. 
With  his  last  breath  he  exclaimed.  "You  have 
E 


52  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

killed  your  prince,"  and  this  completed  their  delu- 
sion. They  cut  off  the  head,  and  hastened  with  it 
to  Fort  Augustus,  where  many  persons  pronounced 
it  to  be  that  of  Charles.  Nor  was  it  till  it  had 
been  carried  to  London,  and  examined  by  one  of 
the  prince's  imprisoned  body -servants,  that  the 
truth  was  discovered.  In  the  mean  while,  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  troops  had  been  withdrawn 
from  the  Highlands ;  and  the  remainder,  being  no 
longer  animated  by  the  prospect  of  gaining  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  became  less  vigilant  than  before. 
Of  this  comparative  quiet  Charles  availed  him- 
self, to  make  an  effort  to  join  his  friends  in  Loch, 
aber  or  Badenoch.  Peter  Grant,  the  most  active 
of  his  seven  companions,  was  accordingly  de- 
apatched  on  the  18th  of  August,  to  confer  with 
Clunes  Cameron,  who  was  in  the  vicinity  of  Loch 
Arkeig.  Grant  returned  the  next  day  with  a  mes- 
sage from  Cameron,  offering  to  meet  the  prince  at 
the  head  of  Glencoich,  where  he  had  a  hut  in  a 
secure  place.  Charles  set  out  in  a  thick  fog,  ac- 
companied by  ten  persons,  forded  the  water  of 
Garry,  which  was  up  to  his  middle,  and  at  length 
was  compelled  by  storm  and  darkness  to  halt  on 
the  side  of  Drumnadial,  a  high  mountain  near  Loch 
Lochie.  It  rained  excessively  throughout  the  night, 
and  they  had  neither  shelter  nor  food  of  any  kind. 
Next  morning  Grant  was  sent  to  see  whethei 
Clunes  was  at  the  place  appointed ;  the  prince  and 
his  attendants  remained  upon  the  hill,  destitute  of 
victuals,  and  not  daring  to  seek  for  any.  Grant 
came  back  with  tidings  that  Cameron  had  been  to 
the  place  of  meeting,  but  had  gone  away  on  not 
finding  them.  He  had,  however,  better  news  to 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWA.RD.  53 

communicate  ;  he  had  shot  a  deer  as  he  was  re- 
turning, and  hidden  it  in  a  secure  spot.  At  night 
the  hungry  wanderers  joyfully  hastened  to  where 
the  carcass  was  concealed,  and,  though  they  had 
neither  bread  nor  salt,  they  made  a  hearty  meal. 
Clunes  joined  them  on  the  following  morning,  and 
conducted  them  to  a  hut  in  a  wood  at  the  farther 
end  of  Loch  Arkeig.  Here  the  robbers  took  leave 
of  the  prince,  with  the  exception  of  Grant  and 
Chisholm,  who  still  remained  with  him  for  a  while. 
In  and  about  this  hut  Charles  and  Clunes  contin- 
ued for  several  days ;  they  lodged  in  it  when  the 
weather  was  bad  and  no  troops  were  out,  but  at 
other  times  kept  in  the  mountain. 

Eager  as  Charles  was  for  a  junction  with  Lo- 
chiel  and  Clunie,  he  was  compelled  to  postpone  it 
for  the  present,  as  Clunes  assured  him  all  the  fer- 
ries were  so  carefully  watched  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  him  at  this  moment  to  reach  the  coun- 
tries of  Rannoch  and  Badenoch.  His  friends  in 
Badenoch  were  equally  eager  to  obtain  some  in- 
formation  respecting  him.  They  accordingly  de- 
spatched McDonald  of  Lochgarry,  and  Dr.  Came- 
ron, Lochiel's  brother,  to  make  inquiries  on  the 
north  side  of  the  lakes.  These  messengers  speed- 
ily fell  in  with  Clunes,  who  offered  to  take  them  to 
the  prince. 

The  prince  was  then  sleeping  on  the  hill,  with 
one  of  Clunes's  sons,  and  Peter  Grant  was  keep, 
ing  watch  over  them.  Grant  himself  was  over, 
come  with  fatigue,  and  could  not  help  nodding; 
and,  while  his  senses  were  thus  obscured,  Clunes, 
Lochgarry,  and  Dr.  Cameron,  with  two  servants, 
all  armed,  had  approached  within  a  short  distance. 


54  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

Believing  that  the  strangers  were  militia,  Grant 
roused  the  sleepers,  and  proposed  that  they  should 
all  retreat  to  the  top  of  the  hill.  Charles  was  of 
opinion  that  this  would  be  an  impolitic  step.  It 
was,  he  said,  too  late  to  fly ;  their  enemies  would 
either  overtake  them,  or  come  near  enough  to  bring 
them  down  with  their  muskets ;  the  best  thing  they 
could  do  was  to  get  behind  the  stones,  take  de- 
liberate aim,  and  fire  upon  them  as  they  advanced. 
As  Grant  and  he  were  excellent  marksmen,  they 
would,  he  thought,  be  certain  of  doing  some  execu- 
tion ;  and  he  had  in  reserve  a  pair  of  pocket-pis- 
tols, which  he  now  produced  for  the  first  lime. 
Grant,  who  was  not  fond  of  running  away,  willing- 
ly acquiesced  in  this  scheme.  Their  muskets  were 
already  levelled  on  the  stones,  and  they  were  just 
going  to  fire,  when  they  recognised  Clunes,  and 
the  sight  of  him  convinced  them  that  they  were  not 
in  danger.  A  minute  more,  and  Charles  would 
probably  have  destroyed  some  of  his  most  devoted 
partisans.  The  joy  which  he  felt  at  having  avoid- 
ed killing  his  friends  was  enhanced  by  the  news  of 
Lochiel  having  recovered  from  his  wounds. 

At  this  moment  the  prince's  companions  were 
dressing  part  of  a  cow  which  they  had  killed  the 
day  before,  and  the  new-comers  shared  in  the  re- 
past. Charles  ate  heartily,  and  was  much  delight- 
ed with  some  bread  that  had  been  procured  for  him 
at  Fort  Augustus  ;  it  was  a  luxury  to  which  he  had 
long  been  a  stranger.  Though  for  months  he  had 
not  slept  in  a  bed,  and  had  been  exposed  to  all 
weathers,  he  was  cheerful  and  healthy.  For  his 
personal  appearance,  indeed,  little  could  be  said ; 
it  was  scarcely  equal  to  that  of  Robipson  Crusoe  in 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  55 

the  solitary  island.  His  stock  of  plundered  linen 
seems  to  have  been  exhausted,  for  his  shirt  is  de- 
scribed as  being  extremely  soiled ;  his  dress  con- 
sisted of  an  old  black  coat,  a  plaid,  and  a  phi  la  beg ; 
his  feet  were  bare,  his  beard  was  long,  a  dirk  and 
a  pistol  hung  by  his  side,  and  he  carried  a  musket 
in  his  hand. 

The  time  was  not  yet  come  for  Charles  to  carry 
into  effect  his  design  of  joining  Lochiel.  Dr.  Cam- 
eron and  Lochgarry  advised  its  postponement. 
There  was,  they  told  him,  a  report  abroad  that 
Charles  and  Lochiel  had  gone  over  Corryarrick 
with  thirty  men  ;  and  this  report  could  not  fail  to 
rouse  the  slumbering  vigilance  of  the  king's  troops. 
It  was  therefore  advisable  for  him  to  remain  yet 
a  while  with  Clunes.  They  then  arranged  that  Dr. 
Cameron  should  return  among  his  brother's  people 
in  Lochaber,  to  collect  intelligence,  and  that  Loch- 
garry should  be  posted  between  Loch  Lochie  and 
Loch  Oich  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  troops. 
Glenaladale  was  at  the  same  time  sent  to  the  west- 
ern coast,  to  wait  for  the  arrival  of  the  French  ves- 
sels, and  give  notice  of  their  coming. 

A  few  days  after  the  separation  of  the  party 
Charles  was  again  placed  in  jeopardy.  He  had 
passed  the  night  upon  the  mountain  with  Peter 
Grant  and  one  of  Clunes's  sons,  and  early  in  the 
morning  he  was  awoke  by  a  child,  who  told  him 
that  she  saw  a  body  of  red. coats.  On  looking  down 
into  the  vale  he  perceived  a  number  of  soldiers  de- 
stroying the  hut,  and  making  a  search  in  the  neigh- 
bouring  woods.  Information  of  the  abode  of  the 
fugitives  in  that  quarter  had  been  carried  to  Fort 
Augustus.  There  was  ac  time  to  be  lost.  In  the 


56  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

face  of  the  hill  there  was  a  deep  channel,  the  bed  oi 
a  winter  torrent,  the  bottom  of  which  was  not  vis- 
ible to  the  enemy.  Up  this  they  ascended,  and 
then  made  their  way  to  another  extremely  high, 
precipitous,  and  craggy  eminence  called  Mullanta- 
gart.  There  they  remained  all  day  without  a  mor. 
sel  of  food.  In  the  evening  another  son  of  Clunes 
came,  and  told  them  that  his  father  would  meet 
them  at  a  certain  place  in  the  hills,  somewhat  dis- 
tant, with  provisions  ;  and  then  returned  to  let  his 
father  know  that  he  might  expect  them.  At  night, 
Charles,  with  his  attendants,  set  out,  and  travelled 
through  most  dreadful  ways,  passing  among  rocks 
and  stumps  of  trees,  which  tore  their  clothes  and 
limbs.  At  one  time  the  guides  proposed  they  should 
halt  and  stay  all  night;  but  Charles,  though  ex- 
hausted  to  the  greatest  degree,  insisted  on  proceed- 
ing to  meet  Clunes.  At  last,  worn  out  with  fatigue 
and  want  of  food,  he  was  not  able  to  go  on  without 
help,  and  the  two  guides,  holding  each  of  them  one 
of  his'  arms,  supported  him  through  the  last  part  of 
this  laborious  journey.  When  they  came  to  the 
place  appointed,  they  found  Clunes  and  his  son,  who 
had  a  cow  killed,  and  part  of  it  dressed  for  them. 
In  this  remote  place  Charles  remained  with  Clunes 
till  Lochgarry  and  Dr.  Cameron  came  there,  who 
informed  him  that  the  passes  were  not  so  strict- 
ly guarded  now  as  formerly,  and  that  he  might 
safely  cross  Loch  Arkeig,  and  get  to  the  great  fir- 
wood  belonging  to  Lochiel,  on  the  west  side  of  the 
lake,  near  Auchnacarie,  where  he  might  stay,  and 
corresp3nd  with  Lochiel  and  Clunes  till  it  was  set, 
tied  when  and  where  he  should. meet  them. 

At  this  place  of  refuge  Charles  received  a  leU&« 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  57 

from  Ljchiel  and  Clunie,  stating  that  they  were  in 
Badenoch,  and  appointing  a  day  for  the  latter  chief 
to  meet  him,  and  conduct  him  to  their  habitation. 
The  prince  was,  however,  so  impatient  to  see  hia 
friends,  that  he  would  not  wait  for  Clunie's  arrival, 
but,  taking  the  first  guide  he  could  procure,  set  out 
immediately  with  Dr.  Cameron,  Lochgarry,  and 
two  servants,  on  his  journey  to  Badenoch.  They 
travelled  all  night,  reached  on  the  following  day  a 
place  called  Corineuir,  passed  the  great  glen  of 
Albyn  unmolested,  and  came  to  Mallanuir,  where 
Lochiel  was  residing  in  a  wretched  hut,  which  had 
been  his  abode  for  a  considerable  time. 

Charles  was  at  this  moment  in  danger  of  falling 
by  the  hands  of  his  most  devoted  friends.  When 
his  party,  all  of  whom  were  armed,  was  seen  at  a 
distance,  it  excited  no  small  alarm  in  the  mind  of 
Lochiel,  who  mistook  it  for  a  detachment  of  militia 
from  a  body  which  was  stationed  about  five  miles 
off.  As  his  wounds  would  not  allow  of  his  walking 
without  assistance,  flight  was  out  of  the  question, 
and  he  therefore  determined  to  have  a  struggle 
with  his  enemies.  He  had  reason  to  hope  that  he 
should  be  the  victor,  for  he  had  four  companions, 
and  twelve  loaded  muskets,  besides  pistols.  The 
guns  were  already  levelled,  and  a  volley  was  OR 
the  point  of  being  fired  at  the  intruders,  when,  for. 
tanately,  some  of  them  were  recognised.  Per- 
ceiving that  the  prince  himself  was  among  them, 
Lochiel  advanced  as  nimbly  as  his  lameness  would 
permit,  to  give  him  a  hearty  welcome.  The  joy 
was  mutual.  Lochiel  would  fain  have  kneeled  to 
him,  but  the  prince  laid  his  hand  upon  the  chief's 
shoulder,  and  said,  "  No,  no,  my  dear  Lochiel ;  we 


58  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

know  not  who  may  be  looking  upon  us  from  yon- 
der hills,  and  should  they  see  any  such  motions, 
they  will  directly  conclude  that  I  am  here." 

In  spite  of  his  fatigue,  the  prince  was  gay  and 
in  high  spirits.  The  habitation  into  which  he  waa 
conducted  by  Lochiel  was  an  exceedingly  bumble 
one ;  but,  besides  that  it  contained  his  faithful 
friends,  it  had  one  great  charm  in  the  eyes  of  a 
hungry  wanderer  who  had  long  been  used  to  scan- 
ty meals.  It  contained  a  plentiful  stock  of  pro- 
visions :  there  was  abundance  of  mutton,  some 
good  beef  sausages,  a  large  quantity  of  butter  and 
cheese,  an  excellent  and  ample  ham,  and  an  anker 
of  whiskey.  The  merit  of  the  latter  article  was 
speedily  tried  by  the  prince,  who  drank  to  the 
health  of  all  his  followers.  Some  minced  collops 
were  then  dressed  for  him  with  butter  in  a  large 
saucepan,  which  was  their  only  cooking  utensil. 
Charles  ate  them  out  of  the  saucepan  with  a  silver 
spoon,  and,  smiling,  said,  "  Now,  gentlemen,  I  live 
like  a  prince  !"  When  he  had  dined,  he  asked 
Lochiel  whether  he  had  always  fared  so  well  since 
he  had  been  compelled  to  hide  himself.  "Yes, 
sir,"  answered  Lochiel;  "for  nearly  these  three 
months  that  I  have  been  hereabouts  with  my  cous- 
in Clunie,  he  has  so  well  provided  me  that  I  have 
always  had  plenty  of  such  as  you  see  ;  and  I  thank 
Heaven  that  your  highness  has  got  through* so 
many  dangers  to  partake  of  it." 

Two  days  after  the  prince  had  joined  Lochiel 
Clunie  came  back  from  Auchnacarie,  whither  he 
had  gone  in  search  of  him.  Clunie  was  about  to 
kneel  on  entering  the  hut,  but  Charles  stopped  this 
ceremony  by  giving  him  a  warm  embrace.  "  Clu- 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  59 

nie,"  said  he,  *•  i  regret  that  you  and  jour  regi- 
ment were  not  at  the  battle  of  Culloden.  li  was 
not  till  very  lately  that  I  knew  you  were  so  near 
on  that  day." 

Fearing  that  Charles  might  be  endangered  by 
too  long  a  stay  in  one  place,  Clunie,  the  day  after 
his  return,  conducted  the  prince  about  two  miles 
farther,  to  a  little  shieling  or  hut  called  Uiskchibra. 
This  new  abode  was  smoky  and  uncomfortable  in 
the  highest  degree.  Charles  nevertheless  contin- 
ued there  for  two  days  and  nights  without  mur- 
muring. At  the  end  of  that  time  he  was  removed 
to  a  habitation  somewhat  less  inconvenient  and 
much  more  romantic,  which  Clunie  had  fitted  up 
for  him  in  a  secluded  spot. 

This  asylum,  which  bore  the  name  of  The  Cage, 
was  well  adapted  for  concealment.  "  It  was  sit- 
uated," says  its  contriver,  "  within  a  small,  thick 
bush  of  wood,  in  the  face  of  a  very  rough,  burh, 
and  rocky  mountain  called  Letternilichk,  still  u 
part  of  Benalder,  full  of  great  stones  and  crevices, 
and  some  scattered  wood  interspersed.  There 
were  first  some  rows  of  trees  laid  down,  in  order 
to  level  a  floor  for  the  habitation  ;  and  as  the  place 
was  steep,  this  raised  the  lower  side  to  an  equal 
height  with  the  other ;  and  these  tre.es,  in  the  way 
of  joists  or  planks,  were  levelled  vrith  earth  and 
gravel.  There  were  between  the  trees,  growing 
naturally  on  their  own  roots,  some  stakes  fixed  in 
the  earth,  which,  with  the  trees,  were  interwoven 
with  ropes  made  with  heath  and  birch  twigs  up  to 
the  top  of  the  Cage,  it  being  of  a  round,  or,  rather, 
oval  shape,  and  the  whole  thatched  and  covered 
over  with  moss.  This  whole  fabric  hung,  as  it 


60  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

were,  by  a  large  tree,  which  reclined  from  the  one 
end  all  along  the  roof  to  the  other,  and  which  gave 
it  the  name  of  the  Cage  ;  and  by  chance  there  hap- 
pened to  be  two  small  stones  at  a  small  distance 
from  one  another,  in  the  side  next  the  precipice, 
resembling  the  pillars  of  a  chimney,  where  the  fire 
was  placed.  The  smoke  had  its  vent  out  here  all 
along  the  face  of  the  rock,  which  was  so  much  of 
the  same  colour  that  one  could  discover  no  differ- 
ence  in  the  clearest  day.  The  Cage  was  no  lar- 
ger than  to  contain  six  or  seven  persons,  four  of 
whom  were  frequently  employed  playing  at  cards, 
one  idle  looking  on,  one  baking,  and  another  firing 
bread  and  cooking." 

Charles  now  breathed  more  freely.  The  pur- 
suit of  him  was  much  slackened,  and,  at  all  events, 
he  was  no  longer  hemmed  round  within  a  narrow 
circle,  but  could  direct  his  flight  either  to  the  north 
or  the  south,  with  the  certainty  of  being  received 
and  concealed  by  some  of  his  partisans.  His  per. 
ils,  toils,  and  wanderings  were,  indeed,  nearly  a, 
an  end.  The  Cage  was  the  last  refuge  to  which 
he  was  driven  in  Scotland.  The  French  vessels, 
to  watch  for  the  arrival  of  which  Glenaladale  had 
•been  sent  to  the  coast,  at  length  made  their  ap- 
pearance. Glenaladale  promptly  set  out  to  com- 
municate to  the  prince  the  joyful  information. 
But  he  found  that  Charles  was  gone  ;  nor  was 
Ciunes  at  hand,  who  had  been  left  behind  to  ap- 
prize Glenaladale  of  the  prince's  movements.  The 
approach  of  a  party  of  soldiers  had  compelled 
Ciunes  himself  to  shift  his  quarters.  While  Glen- 
aladale was  entirely  at  a  loss  what  step  to  take, 
and  was  sorely  grieved  at  the  idea  that  this  oppor- 


PRINCE    CHARLES    EDWARD.  Ol 

tunity  m'.ght  be  lost,  he  accidentally  met  with  a 
poor  woman  who  directed  him  to  the  place  where 
Clunes  was  concealed.  That  gentleman  delayed 
not  a  moment  sending  off  a  despatch  to  Charles ; 
and  Glenaladale  meanwhile  returned  to  the  coast 
to  make  known  to  the  French  officers  that  the 
prince  was  on  his  way  t  >  embark. 

Charles  received  the  glad  tidings  on  the  13th  of 
September,  the  twelfth  day  of  his  residence  in  the 
Cage.  He  began  his  journey  without  delay,  in 
company  with  Lochiel,  Lochgarry,  and  other  faith- 
ful adherents,  resting  in  the  day  and  travelling  by 
night,  and  reached  Moydart  on  the  19th.  On  his 
arrival  he  found  a  great  number  of  his  adherents 
collected  together.  Expresses  had  been  sent  to 
all  the  fugitive  partisans  of  the  Stuarts  within 
reach,  that  they  might  take  this  chance  of  escaping, 
and  more  than  a  hundred  persons  had  availed 
themselves  of  it.  The  embarcation  of  the  prince 
took  place  on  the  20th  at  Borodale,  the  spot  where 
fourteen  months  before  he  had  landed  to  commence 
his  daring  and  ill-starred  enterprise  ;  and,  after  a 
voyage  of  nine  days,  he  landed  in  safety,  with  his 
exiled  friends,  at  Rcscoff,  near  Morlaix,  on  the 
coast  of  Brittany. 


62          PERILOUS  ADVENTURF.8. 


ESCAPE  OF  J.  J.  CASANOVA  FROM  THE 
STATE-PRISON  OF  VENICE. 

THE  narrative  of  Casanova's  incarceration  in 
the  state-prison  of  Venice,  and  of  his  escape  from 
thence,  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  interesting 
that  has  ever  been  made  public.  Remarkable  as  a 
man  of  talent,  Casanova  was  at  least  as  remarka- 
ble  for  his  unbridled  and  unblushing  libertinism. 
He  seems  to  have  been  incapable  of  feeling  shame 
for  his  misdeeds.  The  account  which  he  has  left 
of  his  own  career,  witty  and  animated  as  that  ac- 
count invariably  is,  almost  tempts  us  to  wish  that 
the  writer  had  found  his  Venetian  jail  impervious 
to  his  persevering  efforts.  He  was,  however,  not 
without  some  redeeming  qualities;  and  we  must 
bear  in  mind  that  he  lived  in  a  corrupt  age,  and 
among  a  licentious  people.  He  has  been  charac- 
terized, and  not  unaptly,  as  "a  sort  of  Gil  Bias  of 
the  eighteenth  century." 

Casanova,  whose  Christian  name  was  John 
james,  and  who  thought  proper  to  add"de  Sein- 
galt"  to  his  surname,  was  by  birth  a  Venetian,  but 
claimed  to  be  descended  from  the  a  icient  Spanish 
house  of  Palafox.  Talent  seems  to  have  been  large- 
ly  bestowed  upon  his  family ;  his  two  youngei 
brothers,  Francis  and  John  Baptist,  attained  a  high 
reputation  as  painters,  and  the  latter  is  also  ad- 
vantageously known  as  a  writer  upon  the  pictorial 
art.  John  James  was  born  at  Venice  in  1725, 


CASANOVA.  63 

•tudied  at  Padua,  and  distinguished  himself  by  his 
precocious  abilities,  and  his  rapid  progress  in  learn, 
ing.  His  wit  and  conversational  powers  made  him 
a  favourite  guest  among  the  patricians  of  his  native 
city.  He  was  designed  for  the  Church ;  but  his 
scandalous  intrigues  disgraced  his  character,  and 
even  brought  imprisonment  upon  him.  After  a 
variety  of  adventures,  he  embarked  in  1743  for 
Constantinople,  where  he  formed  an  acquaintance 
with  the  celebrated  Count  Bonneval.  A  quarrel  at 
Corfu  compelled  him  to  return  to  Venice.  There 
for  a  while  he  gained  subsistence  as  a  violin  player. 
By  a  lucky  chance  he  acquired  the  friendship  of  a 
rich  and  powerful  Venetian.  He  happened  to  be 
present  one  day  when  the  senator  Bragadino  was 
struck  with  a  fit.  Casanova  boldly  prohibited  the 
use  of  the  medicine  which  the  physicians  had  pre- 
scribed, and  by  his  own  skill  succeeded  in  recover, 
ing  the  patient.  The  grateful  Bragadino  took  him 
into  his  house,  and  thenceforward  seems  to  have  al- 
most considered  him  as  a  son.  But  the  licentious- 
ness of  Casanova  stood  in  the  way  of  his  perma- 
nent happiness.  He  was  anew  under  the  necessity 
of  quitting  his  native  place,  and  successively  other 
cities  which  he  visited,  and  he  spent  some  years  in 
wandering  over  Italy,  and  to  Paris. 

Again  Casanova  found  his  way  back  to  Venice, 
where  his  converse  and  his  social  powers  procured 
for  him  a  hearty  welcome.  But  he  did  not  long 
remain  in  safety.  The  malice  of  an  enemy,  aided 
by  his  own  flagrant  imprudence,  at  length  brought 
him  under  the  lash  of  the  Venetian  government. 
His  dissolute  character  undoubtedly  justified  sus- 
picion ;  he  himself  confesses,  with  a  shameless 


6\  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

candour,  that  "  he  was  anything  but  pious,  and  that 
there  was  not  a  more  determined  libertine  in  Ven. 
ice."  It  was,  however,  no  love  of  morality  that 
prompted  the  proceedings  against  him.  Among 
the  many  individuals  whom  he  had  offended  by  his 
tongue,  his  pen,  and  his  rivalry,  there  happened  to 
be  one  of  the  state  inquisitors,  and  that  worthy  per- 
sonage  availed  himself  of  his  office  to  take  ven- 
geance  on  the  offender.  Convenient  witnesses 
were  not  difficult  to  be  found  in  Venice.  Three 
men  came  forward  as  Casanova's  accusers,  and  in 
their  depositions  they  mingled  a  small  portion  of 
truth  with  much  absurd  falsehood.  They  swore 
that  he  ate  meat  on  the  prohibited  days,  and  that 
he  went  to  mass  only  to  hear  the  music ;  two 
charges  which  no  doubt  were  true.  Their  inven- 
tions were,  however,  more  formidable  than  their 
facts.  They  asserted  that  he  was  vehemently  sus- 
pected of  freemasonry  ;  that  the  large  sums  lost  by 
him  in  gaming  he  obtained  by  selling  to  foreign 
ambassadors  the  state  secrets  which  he  artfully 
wormed  out  of  his  patrician  friends  ;  and  that  he 
believed  only  in  the  evil  one ;  in  proof  of  which 
last  accusation  they  urged  that,  when  he  lost  his 
money  at  play,  he  never,  as  all  good  Christians  did, 
gave  vent  to  execrations  against  the  prince  of  dark- 
ness. His  addiction  to  magical  and  cabalistical 
studies  was  also  adduced  as  evidence  of  his  hereti- 
cal guilt. 

On  the  morning  of  the  25th  of  July,  1755,  the 
head  of  the  Venetian  police  entered  the  chamber 
of  Casanova,  roused  him  from  sleep,  demanded  his 
books  and  papers,  and  bade  the  astonished  prisoner 
to  rise  and  follow  him.  When  he  was  told  that  he 


CASANOVA.  65 

was  arrested  by  order  of  the  tribunal  of  the  State 
Inquisition,  he  acknowledges  that,  on  hearing  the 
name  of  this  formidable  tribunal,   he   was  over- 
cowered,  and  that  his  wonted  courage  gave  place 
to  the  most  implicit  obedience.     While  the  officer 
was  securing  the  manuscripts  and  books,  Casanova 
had  his  hair  dressed,  and  put  on  a  silken  suit,  as 
though  he  had  been  going  to  a  ball  instead  of  a 
prison.     The  papers  and  volumes,  among  the  lat- 
ter of  which  were  his  cabalistic  books,  being  col- 
ected,  he  quitted  the  chamber  with  the  head  of  the 
jolice,  and  was  surprised  to  find  more  than  thirty 
plicemen  in  waiting.    "  Is  it  noi,"  he  sarcastically 
observes,  "  extraordinary,  that  in  England,  where 
coirage  is  innate,  one  man  is  considered  sufficient 
toarrest  another,  while  in  my  country,  where  cow. 
arijce  has  set  up  her  home,  thirty  are  required  for 
theourpose  ?    Probably  a  coward  is  still  more  one 
whei  he  attacks  than  when  he  is  attacked,  and  that 
mafcs  the  person  assaulted  bolder  ;  the  truth  is,  in 
Venre  one   man  is  often  seen  opposing  twenty 
sbirri-  he  gives  them  a  good  beating,  and  escapes." 
Fou-  only  of  the  officers  were  retained  by  the 
chief,  >ho  proceeded  in  a  gondola  to  his  dwelling 
with  th>  prisoner,  and  logked  him  up  in  a  room, 
where  h  remained  for  four  hours.    On  his  return, 
he  informed  Casanova  that  he  was  directed  to  con- 
vey him  o  the  Camerotti :  cells  which  are  known 
also  by  tfe  name  of  I  Piombi,  from  their  being  im- 
mediately ander  the  leaden  roof  of  the  state  prison.* 

*  These  suterraneous  cells  are  nineteen  in  number.  "  They 
»re  in  reality  graves,"  says  Casanova;  "but  they  are  called 
•wells,"  becaue  they  are  always  two  feet  deep  in  water,  the  sea 
penetrating  thisugh  the  gratings  that  supply  the  wretched  light 
that  is  allowedto  them.  The  prisoner  who  will  not  stand  all 
24—5 


66  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

This  prison  was  opposite  to  the  ducal  palace,  on 
the  canal  called  Rio  di  Palazzo,  and  was  connected 
with  it  by  a  covered  bridge,  which  was  emphatically 
denominated  the  Bridge  of  Sighs. 

On  reaching  his  destination,  Casanova  was  pre- 

day  long  in  salt  water  must  sit  on  a  trestle,  that  serves  him  at 
night  for  a  bedstead ;  on  that  is  placed  his  mattress,  and  each 
morning  his  bread,  water,  and  soup,  which  he  must  swallow  im- 
mediately if  he  do  not  wish  to  contend  for  it  with  large  water 
rats  that  infest  these  wretched  abodes.  In  these  fearful  due 
geons,  where  the  prisoner  remains  for  life,  some  have,  notwiU- 
standing  the  misery  of  their  situation  and  the  meagerness  of  Uur 
food,  attained  a  considerable  age.  I  knew  of  a  man  of  the  nare 
of  Beguelin,  a  Frenchman,  who,  having  served  as  a  spy  for  fte 
republic  in  a  war  with  the  Turks,  had  sold  himself  as  an  agnt 
also  to  them ;  he  was  condemned  to  death,  but  his  sentence  /as 
changed  to  perpetual  imprisonment  in  the  '  wells.'  He  was  f ur- 
and-forty  years  of  age  when  he  was  first  immured,  yet  he  'ved 
seven-and-thirty  years  in  them ;  he  could  have  known  only  iim- 
ger  and  misery,  yet  thought  dum  vita  superest,  bene  est,  that  -'hile 
life  remains,  it  is  good." 

"  On  the  first  arrival  of  the  French,"  says  Lord  Byron  "  tha 
Venetians  hastily  blocked  or  broke  up  the  deeper  of  thee  dun- 
geons. You  may  still,  however,  descend  by  a  trapdor,  and 
crawl  down  through  holes,  half  choked  by  rubbish,  to  tfe  depth 
of  two  stories  below  the  first  range.  If  you  are  in  wan  of  con- 
solation for  the  extinction  of  patrician  power,  perhaps  ou  may 
find  it  there.  Scarcely  a  ray  of  light  glimmers  into  tte  narrow 
gallery  which  leads  to  the  cells,  and  the  places  of  cafinement 
themselves  are  totally  dark.  A  small  hole  in  the  wa  admitted 
the  damp  air  of  the  passages,  and  served  for  the  intrduction  of 
the  prisoner's  food.  A  wooden  pallet,  raised  a  fo*  from  the 
ground,  was  the  only  furniture.  The  conductors  t»  you  that  a 
light  was  not  allowed.  The  cells  are  about  five  paps  in  length, 
two  and  a  half  in  width,  and  seven  feet  in  heigh.  They  are 
directly  beneath  one  another,  and  respiration  is  scnewhat  diffi- 
cult in  the  lower  holes.  Only  one  prisoner  was  fnnd  when  the 
Republicans  descended  into  these  hideous  recesses  and  he  is  said 
to  have  been  confined  sixteen  years.  But  the  nmates  of  tha 
dungeons  beneath  had  left  traces  of  their  repentnce  or  of  their 
despair,  which  are  still  visible,  and  may,  perhps,  owe  some- 
thing to  recent  ingenuity.  Some  of  the  detains  appear  to  have 
offended  against,  and  others  to  have  belongd  to,  the  sacred 
twdy." 


CASANOVA.  6? 

sealed  to  the  secretary  of  the  inquisitors,  who  iDere- 
iy  cast  a  glance  on  him,  and  said,  "  It  is  he ;  secure 
him  well."  He  was  then  led  up  into  a  dirty  gar- 
ret  about  six  yards  long  and  two  broad,  lighted 
through  a  hole  in  the  roof.  He  supposed  that  he 
was  to  be  confined  here,  but  he  was  not  to  be  so 
leniently  dealt  with.  The  jailer  applied  a  large 
key  to  a  strong  iron-bound  door  about  three  feet 
and  a  half  high,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  grated 
lole  eight  inches  square.  While  the  jailer  was 
loing  this,  the  prisoner's  attention  was  engaged 
upon  a  singular  machine  of  iron  which  was  fixed 
in  the  wall.  Its  use  was  explained  to  him,  in  a 
toie  of  levity  accompanied  by  laughter,  as  though 
there  had  been  some  excellent  joke  in  the  matter. 
It  vas  an  instrument  similar  to  the  Spanish  garotte, 
for  strangling  those  who  were  condemned  by  the 
illustrious  inquisitors.  After  having  received  this 
consolatory  explanation,  he  was  ushered  into  his 
cell,  vhich  he  could  not  enter  without  stooping  till 
he  waj  nearly  bent  double.  The  door  was  closed 
on  him  and  he  was  asked  through  the  grating  what 
he  woud  have  to  eat.  The  sudden  calamity  which 
had  befUlen  him  had,  as  may  well  be  supposed, 
deadened  his  appetite  and  soured  his  temper,  and 
he  sullenV  replied  that  he  had  not  yet  thought 
about  whavhe  would  have.  The  question  was  not 
repeated :  \e  was  left  alone,  listened  to  the  keeper 
locking  dooi  after  door,  and  then  leaned  against 
the  grating  it.  confused  and  gloomy  meditation. 

When  he  tad  a  little  recovered  from  the  first 
shock,  Casanon  began  to  explore  his  dungeon.  It 
was  so  low  th«t  he  was  obliged  to  stoop  as  he 
groped  along,  anl  there  was  neither  bed,  chair,  noi 
F 


68  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

table  in  it.  There  was,  indeed,  nothing  but  a  shelf, 
on  which  he  deposited  the  silk  mantle,  hat,  and 
plume,  and  other  finery  in  which  he  had  so  un- 
seasonably arrayed  himself.  The  place  was  in- 
volved  in  all  but  utter  darkness.  There  was,  it  is 
true,  a  window,  or  rather  aperture,  of  two  feet 
square,  but  it  was  ingeniously  contrived  to  admit 
the  smallest  possible  quantity  of  light.  Not  only 
was  it  thickly  checkered  by  broad  iron  bars,  but 
immediately  above  it  was  a  beam  of  eighteen  inches 
diameter,  which  crossed  before  the  opening  in  the 

iOof. 

The  heat  now  became  so  intolerable  that  it  drove 
him  to  the  grating  in  the  door,  where  he  coud 
rest  by  leaning  on  his  elbows.  From  this  loophfle 
he  could  see  droves  of  rats  running  about  the  gir- 
ret,  and  even  coming  close  up  to  the  grating.  The 
sight  made  him  shudder  (for  rats  were  his  aversion), 
and  he  hastily  shut  the  wicket.  Hour  after  .lour 
passed  away,  and  no  one  came  near  him.  He  be- 
gan to  feel  the  misery  of  solitude,  and  though  he 
had  no  desire  for  food,  he  was  pained  by  the  »eglect 
which  left  him  without  it.  As  the  day  advanced, 
his  passions  rose  almost  to  madness;  he  howled 
stamped,  cursed,  and  screamed  for  more  than  an 
hour.  No  notice  whatever  was  taken  of  )im  ;  and 
at  length,  it  being  pitch-dark,  he  tied  t  handker- 
chief round  his  head,  and  stretched  hinself  on  the 
floor.  There  he  lay  for  some  time,  hs  mind  dis- 
tracted with  contending  thoughts  and -motions,  till 
sleep  brought  him  a  welcome  relief.  He  had  slept 
for  three  hours,  when  he  was  aroused  by  the  mid- 
night  bell.  Stretching  out  his  hanr  for  a  handker- 
c'.ief,  it  met  another,  which  waf  of  icy  stiffness 


CASANOVA.  69 

and  coldness.  His  hair  stood  on  end,  all  his  facuU 
ties  were  palsied  by  fear,  and  for  some  minutes  he 
was  unable  to  move.  Recovering  himself  a  little, 
he  thought  that  his  imagination  might  have  deceived 
him.  He  extended  his  hand  once  more,  and  still 
the  frozen  hand  was  there.  The  idea  now  occurred 
to  him  that  a  corpse  had  been  placed  by  his  side 
while  he  slept.  A  third  time  he  stretched  out  his 
hand  to  ascertain  whether  his  conjecture  was  right, 
and  in  doing  this  he  moved  his  left  arm,  and  discov- 
ered  that  he  had  been  terrified  by  his  own  hand, 
which  was  rendered  cold  and  rigid  by  his  having 
lain  on  it  for  some  hours.  "  In  itself,"  says  he, 
"  the  discovery  was  laughable  enough  ;  but,  instead 
of  enlivening  me,  it  rather  suggested  the  gloomiest 
reflections.  I  saw  myself  in  a  place  where,  if  what 
was  false  seemed  true,  truth  itself  became  a  dream ; 
where  reason  lost  half  her  powers,  and  where  the 
fancy  fell  a  prey  to  delusive  hopes  or  fearful  de. 
spondencies.  I  began  to  be  distrustful  of  the  reality 
of  everything  which  presents  itself  to  our  senses  or 
our  mind." 

With  the  return  of  day,  hope  revived  in  the 
breast  of  Casanova.  He  anticipated  his  immediate 
liberation  ;  and,  with  a  spirit  which  proved  that  he 
was  scarcely  worthy  of  freedom,  he  meditated  san- 
guinary schemes  of  revenge.  His  cogitations  were 
interrupted  by  the  coming  of  the  jailer,  who  sneer, 
ingly  asked  him  whether  he  had  had  time  enough 
to  decide  upon  what  he  would  eat.  Now,  seeming- 
ly out  of  bravado,  he  ordered  an  ample  supply  of 
different  articles  of  food.  In  a  short  time  the  jailer 
returned,  and  expressed  his  wonder  that  Casanova 
had  *»ot  asked  for  a  bed  and  some  furniture ;  "  for," 


70  PERILOUS    ADVENTDRE8. 

said  he,  "  if  you  imagine  that  you  will  be  here  only 
one  night,  you  are  much  mistaken."  He  then 
handed  a  pencil  and  paper  to  the  prisoner,  who 
gave  him  a  list  of  what  he  should  want.  The  jail- 
er, on  its  being  read  to  him,  declared  that  books, 
ink,  paper,  looking-glass,  and  razors  must  be  omit 
ted,  as  they  were  forbidden  things.  He  required 
money  for  the  provisions,  and  Casanova  gave  him 
one  of  the  three  sequins  which  was  all  his  present 
wealth.  At  noon  the  furniture  and  the  food  were 
brought,  and  he  was  desired  to  mention  what  he 
would  have  for  the  morrow,  as  the  keeper  could 
visit  him  only  once  a  day.  He  was  informed,  like- 
wise, that  the  secretary  would  send  him  books  more 
fitting  than  those  in  the  list,  as  the  latter  belonged 
to  the  prohibited  class.  On  Casanova  desiring  that 
his  thanks  might  be  conveyed  to  the  secretary  for 
having  given  him  a  room  to  himself,  instead  of 
placing  him  with  such  "  rascals"  as  he  supposed  to 
be  inmates  of  these  dungeons,  the  surprised  janitor, 
who  at  first  thought  the  speech  was  in  jest,  assured 
him  that  none  but  people  of  condition  were  put 
there,  and  that,  far  from  being  a  favour,  his  insulated 
condition  was  intended  as  an  aggravation  of  the 
punishment.  "  The  fellow  was  right,"  says  Casa- 
nova, "  as  I  found  out  some  days  afterward  but  too 
well.  I  then  learned  that  a  man  who  is  alone  in 
his  confinement,  without  the  power  of  employing 
himself,  in  a  cell  nearly  dark,  and  where  he  only 
sees  once  a  day  the  person  who  brings  him  food, 
and  in  which  he  cannot  even  walk  about  upright,  be- 
comes the  most  miserable  of  living  creatures  :  he 
may  at  last  even  long  for  the  company  of  a  mur- 
Aerer,  a  madman,  or  even  a  bear.  Solitude  in 


CASANOVA.  71 

these  prisons  brings  despair ;  but  none  know  this 
who  have  not  had  the  experience." 

Drawing  his  table  towards  the  grating,  for  the 
sake  of  the  gleam  of  light  that  entered  there,  Casa- 
nova sat  down  to  his  repast :  an  ivory  spoon  was 
his  only  substitute  for  a  knife  and  fork.  He  had, 
however,  little  occasion  for  carving  implements. 
Long  fasting  and  anxiety  had  taken  away  his  ap- 
petite, and  he  could  not  swallow  more  than  a  spoon- 
ful of  soup.  Seated  in  his  arm-chair,  he  passed  the 
whole  of  the  day  in  feverish  expectation  of  the 
promised  books.  At  night,  sleep  was  banished  from 
his  couch  by  a  combination  of  circumstances :  the 
rats  in  the  adjacent  garret  were  persevering  and 
noisy  in  their  gambols ;  the  clock  of  St.  Mark's 
tower,  nigh  at  hand,  was  as  audible  as  though  it 
had  been  in  the  room  ;  and  he  was  overrun  and  tor- 
mented by  myriads  of  fleas,  which,  he  says,  almost 
threw  him  into  convulsions.  At  daybreak  Lorenzo 
the  jailer  appeared,  ordered  the  cell  to  be  swept 
out,  placed  the  victuals  on  the  table,  and  produced 
two  large  books  which  were  sent  by  the  secretary. 
Casanova  wished  to  go  into  the  garret,  but  this 
favour  was  refused.  When  he  had  eaten  his  soup, 
he  examined  the  books  by  the  help  of  the  light 
which  came  through  the  grating.  They  were  not 
of  9  nature  to  captivate  Casanova,  or,  indeed,  any 
one  but  a  crack-brained  fanatic.  One  bore  the  title 
of  "  The  Mystic  City  of  God,  by  Maria  of  Jesus, 
called  Agreda ;"  the  other  was  a  work,  written  by 
a  Jesuit,  to  inculcate  a  particular  veneration  for  the 
he*rt  of  the  Saviour.  M  The  Mystic  City"  was  a 
wild  rhapsody,  the  production  of  a  nun,  whose  in- 
t'-Uect  was  evidently  disordered  by  ascetic  practices 


72  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

and  visionary  contemplation.  Having  nothing  else 
to  beguile  the  tedious  hours,  Casanova  persisted 
for  a  whole  week  in  reading  it,  and  there  was  some 
danger  of  his  becoming  as  mad  as  the  writer.  «*  1 
felt,"  says  he,  "  the  influence  of  the  disorder  which 
the  nun  of  Agreda  had  ingrafted  on  a  mind  de- 
pressed by  melancholy  and  bad  food.  I  smile  now 
when  I  recall  my  fantastic  dreams.  If  I  had  pos- 
sessed pen  and  paper,  a  work  might  have  been 
produced  in  the  prisons  of  the  Camerotti  more  ex- 
traordinary  than  that  which  Signor  Cavalli  had 
sent  me.  Such  a  work  would  be  sufficient  to  over- 
set a  man's  reason,  if,  like  me,  he  were  a  captive  in 
the  Camerotti,  and  deprived  of  every  employment 
and  of  every  mental  occupation."  Little  more  than 
half  a  century  before  the  period  in  question,  a 
French  translation  of  this  volume  had  given  rise  to 
a  violent  controversy  at  Paris,  and  been  censured 
by  the  Sorbonne. 

In  nine  days  Casanova's  stock  of  money  was  ex- 
hausted. When  Lorenzo  asked  to  whom  he  should 
apply  for  more,  "to  no  one,"  was  the  laconic  an- 
swer. This  was  unpleasant  news  for  the  jailer, 
who  was  fond  of  pelf,  and  doubtless  took  care  to 
remunerate  himself  liberally  for  acting  as  purveyor 
to  those  whom  he  held  in  custody.  On  the  follow- 
ing morning  he  announced  to  the  prisoner  that  the 
tribunal  would  allow  about  fifteen  shillings  weeklv 
for  his  subsistence  ;  and  he  proposed  to  lay  out  the 
sum  for  him,  keep  an  account,  and  return  any 
overplus  at  the  month's  end.  This  arrangement 
was  acceded  to  by  the  captive.  In  the  present 
conditon  of  Casanova,  the  allowance  was  more  than 
sufficient*;  for  his  health  had  now  begun  to 


CASANOVA.  73 

way,  and  he  had  little  inclination  to  eat.  The 
burning  sun  of  the  dog-days,  beating  on  the  leaden 
roof,  converted  his  cell  into  a  kind  of  vapour-bath. 
He  was  obliged  to  remain  wholly  unclothed,  and, 
as  he  sat  in  his  arm-chair,  the  perspiration  ran 
down  from  every  part  of  him.  Fever  next  came 
on,  and  he  took  to  his  bed;  but  he  suffered  in  si- 
lence. In  the  course  of  two  or  three  days,  Loren- 
zo, who  does  not  appear  to  have  been  at  bottom  an 
inhuman  man,  and  who,  besides,  had  an  interest  in 
keeping  him  alive,  discovered  the  illness  of  his 
prisoner,  and  applied  for  medical  aid.  It  was 
granted.  "  You  will  be  astonished,"  said  he,  "  to 
hear  of  the  bounty  of  the  tribunal,  for  you  shall 
have  a  doctor,  surgeon,  and  medicines,  without  its 
costing  you  anything." 

A  physician  was  introduced  by  the  jailer,  but 
Casanova  declared  that  to  his  physician  and  his 
confessor  he  would  not  open  his  lips  in  the  presence 
of  witnesses.  Lorenzo  at  first  refused  to  leave 
them  together,  but  was  finally  obliged  to  yield. 
Ill  as  he  was,  the  prisoner  still  retained  a  portion 
of  his  satirical  spirit.  "  If  you  wish  to  get  well," 
said  the  disciple  of  Esculapius,  "  you  must  banish 
your  melancholy."  "  Write  a  receipt  for  that  pur- 
pose," said  the  patient,  "  and  bear  it  to  the  only 
apothecary  who  can  prepare  a  dose  of  it  for  me. 
Signer  Cavalli,  the  secretary,  is  the  fatal,  doctor 
who  prescribed  for  me  '  The  Heart  of  Jesus'  and 
the  '  Mystic  City ;'  those  works  have  reduced  me 
to  this  condition."  By  the  care  of  his  medical  at- 
tendant, who  also  lent  him  Boethius  to  read,  and  ob- 
tained  from  the  secretary  a  promise  of  other  books, 
the  health  of.  the  prisoner  was  speedily  improved- 


74  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

"  Nothing  n  :»w  tormented  me,"  says  he,  "  but  heat, 
vermin,  and  ennui,  for  I  could  not  read  Boethiua 
forever." 

A  slight  favour  was  now  granted  to  Casanova, 
by  the  pity  or  the  policy  of  his  jailer.  He  was 
permitted  to  enter  the  garret  while  his  cell  was 
being  set  in  order.  During  the  eight  or  ten  min- 
utes which  were  thus  occupied,  he  walked  rapidly 
up  and  down,  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  scaring 
away  his  enemies  the  rats  as  for  the  sake  of  ex- 
ercise. Casanova  prudently  rewarded  the  jailer 
for  what  he  had  already  done,  and  thus  tempted 
him  to  do  more.  When  Lorenzo,  on  the  same 
day,  came  to  settle  his  accounts, "  there  remained," 
says  Casanova,  "  a  balance  of  about  fi  ve-and-twen- 
ty  shillings  in  my  favour  ;  but  I  gave  it  to  him, 
telling  him  that  he  might  have  masses  said  for  it ; 
he  thanked  me,  and  at  the  end  of  each  month  I 
repeated  the  gift." 

From  day  to  day  Casanova  continued  to  flatter 
himself  that  the  morrow  would  set  him  free. 
When  repeated  failures  had  weakened  his  confi- 
dence of  immediate  liberation,  he  took  up  the  hope 
that  some  term  of  imprisonment  had  originally  been 
fixed ;  and  it  struck  him  that  it  would  probably 
expire  on  the  first  of  October,  that  being  the  day 
on  which  the  state  inquisitors  were  changed.  On 
the  night  preceding  that  day  his  feelings  would  not 
suffer  him  to  sleep.  The  morning  for  which  he 
had  so  ardently  longed  brought  him  nothing  but 
disappointment.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  follow, 
ing  week  was  passed  in  paroxysms  of  rage  and 
despair.  When  he  at  length  subsided  into  a  calm. 
er  mood,  and  was  capable  of  reflecting,  he  began 


CA3ANOVA.  75 

to  think  t  probable  he  was  to  be  confined  for  life. 
This  idea  did  not,  however,  bring  back  his  fits  of 
fury  or  despondency.  "  The  fearful  thought,"  says 
he,  "  excited  a  laugh,  but  nothing  more  :  I  resolved 
to  free  myself,  or  perish  in  the  attempt."  Thence- 
forth his  whole  attention  was  turned  to  that  one 
great  purpose.  It  is  true  he  had  neither  gold  to 
bribe  with,  nor  the  power  of  corresponding  and  con- 
certing  with  his  friends,  nor  weapons,  nor  tools, 
but  still  he  was  not  to  be  deterred  from  his  enter- 
prise ;  for,  in  his  opinion,  "  there  was  no  object  a 
man  might  not  attain  by  incessantly  devoting  his 
thoughts  to  it." 

While  his  mind  was  occupied  in  pondering  upon 
the  means  to  carry  his  resolve  into  effect,  a  cir- 
cumstance occurred  which  showed  that  the  idea 
of  recovering  liberty  was  so  predominant  as  to 
leave  no  room  for  that  of  danger.  He  was  stand- 
ing in  his  cell  on  the  1st  of  November,  looking  up 
to  the  window  in  the  roof,  and  scanning  the  large 
beam  that  crossed  it.  All  at  once  he  saw  the 
massy  timber  shake,  bend  to  the  right,  and  then 
resume  its  place,  while  he  himself  lost  his  balance. 
He  knew  that  this  was  caused  by  the  shock  of  an 
earthquake,  and  he  inwardly  rejoiced.  In  about 
five  minutes  the  shock  was  renewed.  He  could 
no  longer  contain  himself;  he  exultingly  exclaimed 
aloud,  "  Another,  another,  great  God  !  but  strong- 
er." The  earthquake  which  he  felt  was  the  same 
that  shook  the  city  of  Lisbon  into  a  heap  of  ruins. 
That  he  might  escape  by  the  destruction  of  the 
prison  was  the  sole  thought  that  flashed  upon  his 
brain  ;  it  never  entered  into  his  head  that  he  might 
be  crushed  by  the  falling  pile. 


76  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

The  monotony  of  Casanova's  existence  was  now 
somewhat  relieved  by  his  having  a  companion  in 
misfortune.  The  first  was  a  youth  named  Mag. 
giorino,  who  had  been  valet  to  a  count,  and  was 
sent  hither  for  having  gained  the  affections  of  hid 
master's  daughter.  "He  was  an  agreeable,  hon- 
est young  man,  but  madly  in  love  ;  and  all  his 
sighs  and  tears  seemed  to  be  vented  more  on  his 
mistress's  account  than  his  own."  On  the  unlucky 
lover  coming  in,  Casanova  lent  him  his  own  mat- 
tress to  sleep  on.  Lorenzo  brought  one,  however, 
the  next  morning,  and  informed  the  new  prisoner 
that  a  small  sum  was  allowed  for  his  support ;  but 
Casanova  told  the  jailer  that  he  would  share  his 
provisions  with  Maggiorino,  and  that  he  might 
keep  the  money  to  have  masses  said  weekly  for 
his  soul.  Lorenzo  was  so  enchanted  by  this  gen- 
erosity  that  he  gave  the  donor  leave  to  walk  for 
half  an  hour  every  day  up  and  down  the  gallery. 
Poor  Maggiorino  did  not  long  remain  the  compan. 
ion  of  Casanova.  He  was  removed  to  another 
part  of  the  prison,  where  daylight  never  entered, 
its  place  being  supplied  by  an  oil  lamp.  There 
he  continued  for  five  years,  at  the  expiration  of 
which  period  he  was  banished  for  ten. 

Casanova  was  sorry  for  the  loss  of  his  companion, 
and  for  a  short  time  his  spirits  were  depressed. 
But  in  a  few  days  the  vacancy  was  transiently 
filled  up  by  a  less  pleasing  character  than  the  en- 
amoured  Maggiorino.  The  stranger  was  a  thin, 
stooping,  shabbily-dressed  man  of  about  fifty,  wilh 
a  sinister  expression  of  countenance.  He  feasted 
at  Casanova's  expense  on  the  first  day  ;  on  the 
second,  when  Lorenzo  asked  for  money  to  pur- 


CASANor,- .  T7 

fliase  food,  the  new-comer  declared  that  he  had 
QOX  a  single  farthing.  Lorenzo  coolly  replied, "  Oh, 
very  well !  then  you  shall  have  a  pound  and  a  half 
of  ship-biscuit  and  excellent  water ;"  and  with  this 
humble  fare  he  provided  him.  Seeing  that  his  fel- 
low-captive seemed  low-spirited,  Casanova  offered 
to  let  him  share  in  his  repasts,  at  the  same  time 
ielling  him  that  he  was  very  imprudent  to  come 
there  entirely  without  money.  "  I  have  money," 
replied  the  hunks,  "  but  one  must  not  let  these  har- 
pies know  it."  He  was  a  usurer,  and  had  attempt. 
ed  to  defraud  a  nobleman  who  had  unwarily  in- 
trusted him  with  a  considerable  sum  :  he  had  been 
cast  in  a  suit  for  the  recovery  of  the  deposite,  and 
was  to  be  held  in  durance  till  he  made  restitution 
and  paid  the  costs.  After  he  had  been  imprisoned 
for  four  days  he  was  summoned  before  flie  secre- 
tary, and,  in  his  hurry,  he  slipped  on  Casanova's 
shoes  instead  of  his  own.  In  about  half  an  hour 
he  returned  with  a  most  wo-begone  look,  took  out 
of  his  own  shoes  two  purses  containing  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  sequins,  and  went  back  to  the  sec- 
retary. Casanova  saw  no  more  of  him.  Stimu- 
lated, perhaps,  by  the  threat  of  torture,  the  usurer 
had  regained  his  liberty  by  parting  with  his  idol- 
ized gold.  Some  months  elapsed  before  he  waa 
succeeded  by  another  tenant. 

"  On  the  1st  of  January,  1756,  I  received,"  says 
Casanova,  "  a  Nevvyear's  gift.  Lorenzo  brought 
me  a  beautiful  dressing-gown  lined  with  fox-fur,  a 
mlken  coverlid  quilted  with  wool,  and  a  case  of 
bearskin  to  put.  my  feet  in  ;  for  in  proportion  as 
my  prison  was  hot  in  summer  was  it  cold  in  winter. 
At  the  s  ime  time  he  informed  me  that  six  sequins 


78  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

monthly  were  placed  at  my  disposal,  and  that  I 
might  buy  what  books  and  newspapers  I  pleased. 
He  added,  that  this  present  came  from  my  friend 
and  patron  the  Patrician  Bragadino.  I  begged  of 
him  some  paper  and  a  pencil,  and  wrote  on  it, 
'  My  nanks  for  the  clemency  of  the  tribunal  and 
the  generosity  of  Signor  Bragadino.'  A  person 
must  have  been  in  my  situation  to  be  able  to  ap- 
preciate the  effect  this  had  on  me  :  in  the  fulness 
of  my  heart  I  pardoned  my  oppressors ;  indeed,  I 
was  nearly  induced  to  give  up  all  thoughts  of  es- 
caping ;  so  pliant  is  man  after  misery  has  bowed 
him  down  and  degraded  him." 

The  feeling  of  submission  to  his  fate  was,  how. 
ever,  only  momentary.  His  mind  was  again  in- 
cessantly employed  in  dwelling  upon  his  intended 
flight.  The  garrulity  of  the  jailer,  who  had  an  in- 
ordinate  love  of  babbling,  supplied  him  with  some 
particulars  relative  to  the  prison  which  ultimately 
proved  useful.  But  it  was  from  the  leave  to  walk 
in  the  gallery  that  he  derived  the  greatest  advan- 
tage. At  first  the  favour  was  considered  valuable 
only  as  affording  him  an  enlarged  space  for  exer- 
cise ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  he  began  to  im- 
agine that  he  might  turn  it  to  better  account.  In 
the  course  of  his  brief  visits  to  this  spot,  he  discov- 
ered  in  a  corner  two  chests,  round  which  was  a 
quantity  of  old  lumber.  One  of  the  chests  was 
locked ;  that  which  was  open  contained  feathers, 
paper,  and  twine,  and  a  piece  of  what  seemed  to 
be  smooth  black  marble,  about  an  inch  thick,  three 
inches  wide,  and  six  inches  long.  Apparently 
without  having  settled  what  use  he  could  make  of 
it,  he  carried  the  stone  to  his  cell  and  hid  it  under 
.nis  shirts. 


CASANOVA.  79 

Some  time  after  this,  as  he  was  walking,  hia 
eyes  rested  on  a  bolt  as  thick  as  one's  thumb,  and 
eighteen  inches  in  length,  which  he  had  more  than 
ou:e  seen  among  the  lumber,  and  the  thought  sud- 
denly struck  him  that  it  might  be  converted  into  a 
tool  and  a  weapon.  He  concealed  it  under  his 
clothes,  and  took  it  to  his  abode.  He  now  exam, 
ined  more  closely  the  supposed  piece  of  marble, 
and  was  delighted  to  find  that  it  was  in  reality  a 
whetstone.  Quite  uncertain  as  to  what  purpose  he 
should  apply  the  bolt,  but  with  a  vague  hope  that  it 
might  possibly  be  of  service,  Casanova  set  to  work 
to  point  it.  This  was  a  wearisome  task.  He  was 
nearly  in  the  dark,  held  the  stone  in  his  hand,  as 
there  was  no  place  where  he  could  fix  it,  and  for 
want  of  oil  was  obliged  to  moisten  it  with  spittle. 
For  fourteen  days  he  worked  incessantly,  till  hia 
left  hand  had  become  one  blister,  and  his  right  arm 
could  not  be  moved  without  difficulty.  He  had, 
however,  succeeded  in  converting  the  rusty  bolt 
into  an  octangular  stiletto,  which  might  have  done 
credit  to  a  sword-maker's  skill.  When  it  was  fin. 
ished,  he  hid  it  in  the  straw  of  his  arm-chair. 
Whether  it  would  be  employed  in  committing  mur- 
der or  giving  freedom,  or  perhaps  both,  circum- 
stances alone  could  decide. 

After  having  pondered  for  five  days  on  what 
was  to  be  done,  Casanova  decided  that  to  break 
through  the  floor  of  his  cell  was  the  only  plan 
which  afforded  a  chance  of  success.  The  state 
cells,  in  one  of  which  he  waa  immured,  were  in 
the  roof,  and  were  covered  with  plates  of  lead  three 
feet  square  and  about  a  line  in  thickness.  They 
occupied  the  two  opposite  sides,  eastern  and  west* 


80  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ern,  of  the  building,  four  on  the  former  side  and 
three  on  the  latter.  The  eastern  cells  were  light, 
and  would  allow  a  man  to  stand  upright  in  them, 
while  the  others  were  made  low  and  dark  by  the 
beams  which  crossed  the  windows.  The  only  ac- 
cess was  through  the  gate  of  the  palace,  the  Bridge 
of  Sighs,  and  the  galleries,  and  the  secretary  kept 
the  key,  which  was  daily  returned  to  him  by  the 
jailer  after  he  had  attended  on  the  prisoners. 

Casanova  was  aware  that  under  his  cell  was  the 
secretary's  chamber,  and  that  it  was  open  every 
morning.  If,  by  the  help  of  the  bedclothes,  he 
could  descend  unseen  into  it,  he  purposed  to  hide 
himself  under  the  table  of  the  tribunal,  and  watch 
an  opportunity  to  sally  forth.  If,  contrary  to  his 
expectation,  he  should  find  a  sentinel  in  the  room, 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  kill  him  :  Casanova  was 
not  troubled  with  an  over-scrupulous  conscience. 
He  could  not,  however,  yet  begin  his  work,  foi 
the  cold  was  so  intense  that  when  he  grasped  the 
iron  his  hands  became  almost  frozen  ;  and,  besides, 
for  nineteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty. four  he  was  in 
complete  darkness,  the  winter  fogs  at  Venice  being 
so  thick  that  even  in  the  daytime  he  had  not  light 
enough  to  read  by.  He  was  therefore  compelled 
to  postpone  till  a  more  favourable  season  the  com- 
mencement of  his  operations. 

This  compulsory  delay,  and  the  want  of  some- 
thing to  beguile  the  lagging  hours,  depressed  his 
spirits.  "1  again  sunk  into  despondency,"  says 
he ;  "a  lamp  would  have  made  me  happy.  I 
thought  and  thought  how  I  could  supply  the  place 
of  one.  I  required  a  lamp,  wick,  oil,  flint  and  steel, 
un/i  tinder,  and  I  had  not  one  of  them  all."  By 


CASANOVA.  81 

dint  of  contrivance,  however,  he  soon  procured  a 
part  of  them.  An  earthen  pipkin  which  he  man- 
aged to  conceal  was  the  lamp ;  the  oil  was  saved 
from  his  salad ;  a  wick  he  formed  from  cotton  ta- 
ken out  of  his  bed ;  and  a  buckle  in  his  girdle  was 
converted  into  a  steel.  A  flint,  matches,  and  tin- 
der were  still  deficient.  These,  too,  his  perseve- 
rance obtained.  Pretending  to  have  a  violent 
toothache,  he  prevailed  on  Lorenzo  to  give  him  a 
fragment  of  flint,  for  the  purpose  of  being  steeped 
in  vinegar  and  applied  to  the  tooth  ;  and  to  prevent 
suspicion,  he  put  three  pieces  of  it  into  vinegar  in 
the  presence  of  the  jailer.  Sulphur  he  got  by  a 
similar  stratagem.  He  was  very  opportunely  at- 
tacked  by  an  irritation  of  the  skin,  for  which  the 
article  he  stood  in  need  of  was  one  of  the  reme- 
dies prescribed.  "  But  now  for  the  tinder :  to 
contrive  a  substitute  for  that  was  the  work  of  three 
days.  It  at  last  occurred  to  me  that  I  had  ordered 
my  tailor  to  stuff  my  silken  vest  under  the  arms 
with  sponge,  to  prevent  the  appearance  of  the 
stain.  The  clothes,  quite  new,  lay  before  me ;  my 
heart  beat ;  the  tailor  might  not  have  fulfilled  my 
orders;  I  hesitated  between  fear  and  hope.  It 
only  required  two  steps,  and  I  should  be  out  of  sus- 
pense  ;  but  I  could  not  resolve  on  those  two  steps  . 
at  last  I  advanced  to  where  the  clothes  lay,  and, 
feeling  unworthy  of  such  a  favour  if  I  should  find 
the  sponge  there,  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  prayed 
fervently.  Comforted  by  this,  I  took  down  the 
dress — and  found  the  sponge.  I  was  no  sooner  in 
possession  of  it  than  I  poured  the  oil  into  the  pip- 
Kin,  put  the  wick  in,  and  the  lamp  was  ready.  It 
was  no  little  addition  to  the  pleasure  this  luxury  a£> 
24—6 


62  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

forded  me,  that  I  owed  it  entirely  to  my  own  in- 
genuity, and  that  I  had  violated  one  of  the  strictest 
laws  of  the  prison.  I  dreaded  the  approach  of 
night  no  longer." 

The  pleasure  which  he  derived  from  this  acqui- 
sition enabled  him  to  bear  with  tolerable  patience 
the  necessary  postponement  of  his  great  underta- 
king. Considering  that  during  the  riotous  festiv- 
ities of  the  Carnival  he  would  be  daily  liable  to 
Have  companions  sent  to  him,  he  resolved  not  to 
begin  his  labours  till  the  first  Monday  in  Lent. 
But  here  he  was  staggered  by  another  obstacle 
which  he  had  not  hitherto  taken  into  account 
He  had  always  manifesto  an  eagerness  to  have 
his  room  swept,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  down 
the  vermin  that  annoyed  him.  But  if  he  persisted 
in  having  this  done,  the  jailer  could  not  fail  to  dis- 
cover the  breach  he  was  making  in  the  floor.  He 
was  therefore  obliged  to  desire  that  the  sweeping 
might  be  discontinued.  For  about  a  week  Loren- 
zo humoured  the  prisoner  ;  but  he  seems  at  last  to 
have  felt  an  undefined  suspicion  that  something 
wrong  was  intended.  He  ordered  the  cell  to  be 
swept  and  the  bed  removed,  and  brought  in  a  light 
on  pretence  of  ascertaining  whether  the  work  had 
been  thoroughly  done.  But  his  vigilance  was- 
thrown  away :  he  was  no  match  for  his  wily  cap- 
tive. Next  morning  he  found  Casanova  in  bed,, 
and  was  told  by  him  he  had  coughed  so  violently 
that  he  had  burst  a  bloodvessel.  Then,  holding 
•jp  a  handkerchief  wtiich  he  had  stained  by  pur. 
posely  cutting  his  thumb,  he  added,  "  See  how  I 
have  bled  !  Pray  send  for  a  physician  !"  A  doc- 
tor came,  prescribed,  listened  to  his  complaint 


CASANOVA.  83 

against  the  jailer,  assented  to  its  justice,  and  di- 
rected that  the  broom  should  thenceforth  be  ban* 
ished. 

Having  thus  secured  a  clear  field  for  his  opera- 
tions, he  moved  his  bed  out  of  the  alcove,  lighted 
his  lamp,  and  set  vigorously  to  work  on  the  floor 
with  his  stiletto.  The  planks  were  sixteen  inches 
broad,  and  he  began  to  make  the  hole  at  the  point 
where  two  of  them  joined.  At  the  outset  the  chips 
were  not  bigger  than  grains  of  corn,  but  they  soon 
increased  to  respectable  splinters.  After  having 
worked  for  six  hours  he  desisted,  and  gathered  the 
chips  into  a  napkin,  intending  to  throw  them  behind 
the  lumber  in  the  garret.  When,  by  dint  of  much 
toil,  he  had  penetrated  through  this  plank,  he  found 
beneath  it  another  of  equal  thickness,  which  was 
succeeded  by  a  third.  Three  weeks  were  consu- 
med in  getting  through  these  multiplied  impedi- 
ments. After  he  had  conquered  them  he  came  to 
a  still  more  formidable  obstacle :  a  sort  of  pave- 
ment, composed  of  small  pieces  of  marble.  On 
this  his  stiletto  could  make  no  impression.  His 
fruitful  brain,  however,  discovered  a  method  of 
surmounting  this  difficulty.  Taking  the  hint  from 
a  well-known  expedient  ascribed  to  Hannibal,  he 
moistened  the  mortar  with  vinegar,  and  softened 
it  so  much  that,  at  the  end  of  four  days,  he  was 
enabled  to  remove  the  pieces  of  marble.  There 
was  yet  another  plank  to  cut  through ;  and,  as  the 
hole  was  already  ten  inches  deep,  this  part  of  his 
task  was  exceedingly  troublesome  and  laborious. 

Prone  on  the  ground,  quite  naked,  and  steaming 
with  perspiration,  his  lamp  standing  lighted  in  the 
hole,  Casanova  had  been  working  at  the  last  plank 
G 


84  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

for  Unee  hours  of  a  sultry  day  in  June,  when  he 
was  startled  by  the  rattling  of  bolts  in  the  ante- 
rooms. He  had  barely  time  to  blow  out  the  lamp, 
push  the  bedstead  into  the  alcove,  and  throw  upon 
it  the  mattress  and  bedding,  before  Lorenzo  en- 
tered.  The  jailer  brought  with  him  a  prisoner, 
and  congratulated  the  tenant  of  the  ceil  on  having 
such  a  companion.  "  The  new-comer,"  says  Cas- 
anova, "  must  have  thought  himself  in  the  regions 
of  despair,  and  he  exclaimed,  '  Where  am  I  ?  and 
where  am  I  to  be  confined  ?  What  a  heat  and 
what  a  smell !  With  whom  am  I  to  be  imprison, 
ed  ?' "  As  soon  as  the  captives  could  see  each 
other,  a  mutual  recognition  took  place.  The  per- 
son  whom  Lorenzo  had  installed  in  the  cell  was 
Count  Fanarola,  an  agreeable  and  honourable  man, 
of  middle  age,  who  was  committed  for  some  tri. 
fling  remarks  he  had  been  so  imprudent  as  to  make 
in  a  public  place.  Casanova,  who  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  count,  confided  to  him  the  secret 
of  his  project,  and  was  encouraged  to  persevere. 
Fanarola  was  liberated  in  the  course  of  a  few 
days. 

Left  once  more  alone,  Casanova  resumed  his 
toilsome  occupation.  It  was  protracted  by  a  cir- 
cumstance  which  he  had  feared  might  happen,  but 
was  unable  to  prevent.  When  he  had  made  a 
small  perforation  in  the  last  plank,  he  found  that 
the  room  beneath  was,  as  he  had  supposed,  the 
secretary's  ;  but  he  found  also  that  his  aperture 
was  just  over  a  large  cross-beam,  which  would  hin- 
der  his  descent.  He  was  therefore  obliged  to  wi- 
den  the  hole  on  the  other  side,  so  as  to  keep  clear 
of  this  impediment.  In  the  mean  time,  he  careful- 


CASANOVA.  85 

ly  stopped  up  the  small  perforation  with  bread,  thai 
the  light  of  his  lamp  might  not  be  perceived.  It 
was  not  till  the  23d  of  August,  1756,  that  he 
brought  his  labour  to  a  close.  All  was  now  read} 
for  breaking  through;  but  he  determined  to  post- 
pone his  escape  till  the  27th,  the  day  after  that 
being  St.  Augustine's  day,  when  he  knew  that  the 
great  council  met,  and  that,  in  consequence,  there 
would  be  no  person  in  the  Bussola,  which  adjoined 
the  chamber  through  which  he  must  pass. 

Though  the  delay  was  dictated  by  prudence, 
Casanova  had  reason  to  repent  of  it.  The  wisdom 
of  the  proverb  that  recommends  to  take  time  by 
the  forelock  was  proved  in  his  case.  "  On  the  25th 
of  August  an  event  happened,"  says  he,  "  which 
even  now  makes  me  shudder  at  the  recollection  of 
it.  I  heard  the  bolts  drawn,  and  a  deathlike  fear 
seized  me  ;  the  beating  of  my  heart  shook  my 
body,  and  I  threw  myself  almost  fainting  into  my 
arm-chair.  Lorenzo,  still  in  the  garret,  said  to  me 
through  the  grating,  in  a  tone  of  pleasure,  '  I  wish 
you  joy  of  the  news  I  bring.'  I  imagined  he  had 
brought  me  my  freedom,  and  I  saw  myself  lost ; 
the  hole  1  had  made  would  effectually  debar  me 
from  liberty.  Lorenzo  entered,  and  desired  me 
to  follow  him  ;  I  offered  to  dress  myself,  but  he 
slid  it  was  unnecessary,  as  he  was  only  going  to 
remove  me  from  this  detestable  cell  to  another 
quite  new,  well-lighted  with  two  windows,  from 
which  I  could  overlook  half  Venice,  and  where  I 
could  stand  upright.  I  was  nearly  beside  myself. 
I  asked  for  some  vinegar,  and  begged  him  to  thank 
the  secretary,  but  to  entreat  him  to  leave  me  where 
I  was.  Lorenzo  asked  me  if  I  were  mad  to  refu*« 


8<>  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES 

to  exchange  this  plac°  of  torment  for  a  paradise, 
and,  offering  his  arm  to  aid  me,  directed  my  bed, 
books,  &c.,  to  be  brought  after.  Seeing  it  was  in 
rain  to  oppose  any  longer,  I  rose  and  left  my  cage, 
and  with  some  small  satisfaction  heard  him  order 
my  chair  to  be  brought  with  me,  for  in  the  straw 
of  that  was  my  stiletto.  Would  it  had  been  pos- 
sible for  my  toilsome  work  in  the  floor  to  have 
accompanied  me  also. 

'*  Leaning  on  the  shoulder  of  Lorenzo,  who  tried 
by  laughing  to  enliven  me,  I  passed  through  two 
long  galleries,  then  over  three  steps  into  a  large 
light  hall,  and  through  a  door  at  the  left  side  of  it 
into  a  corridor  twelve  feet  long  and  two  broad ; 
the  two  grated  windows  in  it  presented  to  the  eye 
a  wide  view,  extending  over  a  great  part  of  the 
town,  but  I  was  not  in  a  situation  to  be  rejoiced  at 
the  prospect.  The  door  of  my  destined  prison  was 
in  the  corner  of  this  corridor,  and  the  grating  of  it 
was  opposite  to  one  of  the  windows  that  lighted  the 
passage,  so  that  the  prisoner  could  not  only  enjoy 
a  great  part  of  the  prospect,  but  also  feel  the  re- 
freshment  which  the  cool  air  of  the  open  window 
afforded  him — a  balsam  for  any  creature  at  that 
season  of  the  year  ;  but  I  could  not  think  of  all  this 
at  such  a  moment,  as  the  reader  may  easily  con- 
ceive. Lorenzo  left  me  and  my  chair,  into  which 
I  threw  myself,  and  he  told  me  he  would  go  for  my 
bed." 

Casanova  remained  motionless  in  his  chair,  as 
though  he  were  petrified.  His  mind  was  agitated 
by  a  variety  of  feelings,  in  which  disappointment 
and  alarm  were  predominant.  He  had  not  only  to 
lament  that  his  hopes  were  blighted  on  the  very 


CASANOVA.  87 

eve  of  their  being  realized,  but  he  had  reason  to 
fear  that  his  punishment  would  be  horribly  in- 
creased.  Clemency  to  state  criminals  was  not  an 
attribute  of  the  Venetian  government.  He  already 
seemed  to  himself  to  be  condemned  to  dwell  for 
life  in  the  dark  and  silent  dungeons  called  "the 
wells,"  where,  far  beneath  the  level  of  the  waves, 
the  victim  pined  away  existence  among  swarms  of 
vermin,  oozing  waters,  and  noisome  exhalations. 
At  last,  however,  by  a  powerful  mental  effort  he  in 
some  measure  recovered  his  composure. 

Shortly  after  his  removal  two  under  jailers 
brought  his  bed,  and  went  back  for  the  remainder 
of  his  things.  They  did  not  return,  and  for  more 
than  two  hours  he  was  kept  in  suspense.  At  length 
hurried  footsteps  and  words  of  wrath  were  heard  in 
the  passage,  and  Lorenzo  rushed  into  the  apart- 
incut,  foaming  with  rage,  and  pouring  forth  a  tor- 
rent  of  imprecations  and  blasphemies.  He  demand- 
ed the  axe  with  which  the  hole  had  been  made,  and 
the  name  of  the  faithless  servant  who  had  furnished 
it,  and  ordered  his  prisoner  to  be  searched.  Casano- 
va, who  knew  his  man,  met  him  with  scorn  and  defi- 
ance. The  captive,  the  bed,  and  the  mattress  were 
examined,  but  nothing  was  found  ;  luckily,  the  under 
side  of  the  arm-chair,  into  which  the  stiletto  had 
been  thrust,  was  not  looked  at.  "So  you  won't 
tell  me  where  the  tools  are  that  you  used  to  cut 
through  the  floor  ?"  said  Lorenzo.  "  I'll  see  if 
you'll  confess  to  others."  Casanova  answered  with 
provoking  coolness,  "  If  it  be  true  that  I  have  cut 
through  the  floor,  I  shall  say  that  I  had  the  tools 
from  yourself,  and  that  I  have  given  them  back  to 
yon."  This  was  too  much  for  the  jailer  to  bear: 


88  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

"  at  these  words  he  began  literally  to  howl,  ran  his 
head  against  the  wall,  stamped  and  danced  like  a 
madman,"  and  finally  darted  from  the  room.  The 
threat  which  Casanova  had  thrown  out  produced 
the  effect  which  he  probably  expected  from  it. 
Lorenzo  had  the  hole  secretly  filled  up,  and  took  a 
special  care  to  say  nothing  about  it  to  his  suspicious 
and  vindictive  masters. 

On  quitting  the  cell  Lorenzo  closed  all  the  win- 
dows, so  as  to  prevent  the  prisoner  from  inhaling  a 
single  breath  of  fresh  air.  The  place  was  like  an 
oven,  and  to  sleep  was  rendered  impossible.  As  he 
durst  not  report  to  his  superiors  the  offence  which 
had  been  committed,  the  jailer  seems  to  have  deter- 
mined to  revenge  himself  by  making  the  culprit  as 
uncomfortable  as  he  could.  In  the  morning,  sour 
wine,  stinking  water,  tainted  meat,  and  hard  bread 
were  brought  to  Casanova  ;  and  when  he  requested 
•that  the  window  might  be  opened,  no  answer  was 
vouchsafed.  The  walls  and  the  floor  were  ex- 
amined with  an  iron  bar  by  an  under  keeper ;  and 
as  the  inmate  had  formerly  objected  to  sweeping, 
his  cell  was  left  undisturbed  by  a  broom.  The  heat 
increased  to  such  a  degree  that  Casanova  began  to 
think  he  should  be  suffocated ;  the  perspiration 
dr  pped  from  him  so  profusely  that  he  could  not 
read  or  walk  about ;  and  he  could  neither  eat  nor 
drink  of  the  disgusting  food  with  which  he  was 
supplied.  The  same  fare  was  furnished  on  the 
second  day,  and  the  same  silence  maintained  by 
the  malicious  jailer.  The  prisoner  grew  furious, 
•and  determined  that  he  would  stab  his  tormentor 
•on  the  following  day ;  but  prudence,  or  a  better 
feeling,  induced  him  to  relinquish  his  purpose,  and 


CASANOVA.  89 

be  contented  himself  with  assuring  Lorenzo  that, 
as  soon  as  he  regained  his  liberty,  he  would  terri- 
bly revenge  himself  upon  him. 

For  a  whole  week  Lorenzo  kept  up  his  system 
of  annoyance.  On  the  eighth  day,  Casanova,  in 
the  presence  of  the  under  turnkeys,  imperiously 
demanded  the  monthly  account,  and  called  him  a 
cheat.  This  demand  seems  to  have  awakened  the 
jailer  to  a  sense  of  his  interest.  If  he  persisted  in 
playing  the  tyrant,  there  was  reason  to  fear  that  no 
more  sequins  would  be  forthcoming  for  masses. 
His  avarice,  therefore,  got  the  better  of  his  spleen, 
and  he  became  tractable.  A  favourable  opportunity 
for  making  his  peace  occurred  at  the  moment. 
Bragadino  sent  to  the  prisoner  a  basket  of  lemons ; 
which  gift,  with  a  chicken  and  a  bottle  of  excellent 
water,  Lorenzo  presented  to  Casanova  along  with 
the  account,  ordering  at  the  same  time  the  window 
to  be  opened.  Conciliated  by  this  unexpected 
change,  Casanova  desired  that  the  balance  of  the 
account  might  be  given  to  Lorenzo's  wife  with  the 
exception  of  a  sequin,  which  was  to  be  divided 
among  his  underlings.  "  When  we  were  alone,  he 
said  to  me,  calmly, '  You  have  told  me  that  you  are 
indebted  to  me  for  the  tools  you  made  the  great 
opening  in  the  floor  of  your  cell  with  ;  I  am  not, 
therefore,  curious  to  know  anything  more  of  that ; 
but  who  gave  you  the  lamp  ?'  '  You  yourmJf ;  you 
gave  me  oil,  flint,  and  sulphur ;  the  rest  I  had  al- 
ready,' « That  is  true ;  can  you  as  easily  prove 
that  I  helped  you  to  the  tools  to  break  through  the 
floor  ?'  '  Just  as  easily ;  I  got  everything  from  you.' 
*  Grant  me  patience !  what  do  I  hear  ?  did  I  give 
you  an  axe  ?'  '  1  will  confess  all ;  but  the  secretary 


90  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

must  be  present.*  '  I  will  ask  no  farther,  but  be- 
lieve  you ;  be  silent,  and  remember  I  am  a  poor 
man  and  have  a  family.'  He  left  me,  holding  hig 
hands  to  his  face." 

Though  Lorenzo  was  obliged  to  be  silent  with 
respect  to  Casanova's  attempt,  he  adopted  precau- 
tions to  prevent  another  from  being  made.  Every 
day  one  of  the  attendants  tried  the  floor  and  walls 
of  the  apartment  with  an  iron  bar.  But  the  pris- 
oner laughed  at  this  useless  care.  It  was  neither 
through  the  walls  nor  the  floor  that  he  was  planning 
to  escape :  he  well  knew  that  in  those  quarters  no- 
thing  could  be  done.  His  new  scheme  was  to  find 
the  means  of  opening  a  correspondence  with  the 
prisoner  over  his  head,  whom  he  would  furnish  with 
the  stiletto  for  the  purpose  of  making  an  aperture 
through  which  he  himself  might  ascend  into  the 
upper  cell.  On  reaching  that  cell  Casanova  pur- 
posed to  break  another  hole  in  the  ceiling,  get  upon 
the  roof  with  his  fellow-labourer,  and  either  find 
son:e  outlet,  or  let  themselves  down  by  the  help  of 
their  linen  and  bedclothes. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  success  of  such  a  project 
was  so  extremely  doubtful,  that  it  seemed  the  height 
of  absurdity  to  reckon  upon  it.  At  the  very  outset, 
ine  commencing  and  carrying  on  an  intercourse 
with  the  prisoner  above  stairs  appeared  to  present 
an  almost  insuperable  difficulty.  If  that  were  sur- 
mounted, there  was  the  chance  that  his  confederate 
might  prove  cowardly  or  treacherous ;  there  was 
the  hourly  risk  that  their  operations  would  be  de- 
tected ;  and  there  was  the  danger  which  the  ad- 
venturers must  encounter  in  effecting  their  descent 
from  the  lofty  summit  of  the  prison.  But  the  ardent 


CASANOVA.  9l 

longing  to  recover  freedom  can  inspire  the  captive 
with  "hope,  though  hope  be  lost."  The  first  obstacle 
was  unconsciously  removed  by  Lorenzo  himself. 
That  worthy  had  an  insatiable  love  of  gold,  and 
could  not  bear  to  see  the  money  of  the  prisoners 
pass  into  any  pocket  but  his  own.  Casanova  satir- 
ically describes  him  as  one  who  "  would  have  sold 
St.  Mark  himself  for  a  dollar."  The  prisoner  hav- 
ing desired  him  to  purchase  the  works  of  Maffei, 
Lorenzo,  who  was  vexed  to  see  so  much  cash 
wasted,  suggested  that  the  expense  might  be  saved 
by  borrowing  books  from  another  captive,  and  lend- 
ing his  own  in  return.  This  suggestion  was  readily 
adopted  by  Casanova,  who  hoped  that  it  might  lead 
to  a  correspondence  which  would  forward  his  de- 
sign. A  volume  of  Wolff's  writings  was  brought 
to  him,  in  which  he  found  a  sheet  of  paper  contain- 
ing a  paraphrase  in  verse  of  a  sentence  from  Sen- 
eca. He  had  neither  pen  nor  pencil,  but  he  never- 
theless contrived  to  write  some  verses  on  the  same 
paper,  and  a  catalogue  of  his  books  on  the  last  leal 
of  the  volume.  The  nail  of  his  little  finger,  shaped 
into  a  sort  of  pen,  and  some  mulberry  juice,  were 
the  materials  which  he  employed.  An  answer,  in 
the  Latin  language,  came  on  the  morrow,  with  the 
second  volume.  The  writer,  who  was  an  inhab- 
itant  of  the  cell  above  Casanova's,  stated  himself  to 
be  a  monk,  by  name  Marino  Balbi,  and  of  a  noble 
Venetian  family.  Count  Andreas  Asquino,  of  Udina, 
was  his  fellow-prisoner  ;  and  they  both  offered  the 
use  of  their  books.  In  reply,  Casanova  gave  an 
account  of  himself,  which  drew  forth  a  second  epis- 
tle from  the  monk.  "  In  the  next  book  I  found," 
nays  he,  "  a  letter  of  sixteen  pages,  containing  the 
H 


92  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

whole  history  of  the  cause  of  his  imprisonment. 
I  concluded  from  this  that  he  was  an  affected, 
whimsical,  false  reasoner ;  wicked,  stupid,  thought- 
less, and  ungrateful.  For  example,  he  mentioned 
how  unhappy  he  should  be  without  money  or  books ; 
without  the  company,  too,  of  the  old  count,  and 
theu  filled  two  pages  with  jests  and  ridicule  of  him. 
^  wi  vild  never  have  corresponded  with  a  man  of 
mis  character,  had  not  necessity  compelled  me  to 
avail  myself  of  his  aid.  At  the  back  of  the  volume 
I  found  paper,  pen,  and  pencil :  I  now  had  the 
means  of  writing  conveniently."  These  valuable 
articles  the  two  prisoners  had  procured  by  bribing 
Nicolo,  the  under  keeper  who  attended  on  them. 

Balbi,  who  had  learned  from  Nicolo  the  purlieu. 
lars  of  the  recent  attempt  to  escape,  was  eager  to 
know  what  were  Casanova's  present  plans.  At 
first  Casanova  hesitated  to  trust  a  man  of  whom 
he  had  an  unfavourable  opinion ;  but,  considering 
that  he  could  not  do  without  that  man's  assistance, 
he  finally  resolved  to  confide  in  him.  The  monk 
made  some  objections  to  the  feasibility  of  the  scheme, 
which,  however,  were  soon  overruled.  That  Balbi 
might  perforate  the  floor,  it  was  necessary  he  should 
have  the  stiletto  ;  and  Casanova  was  puzzled  how 
to  convey  it  to  him.  He  at  last  hit  upon  this  ex- 
pedient. He  directed  Lorenzo  to  procure  a  large 
folio  edition  of  a  work  which  he  specified,  and 
which  he  thought  would  allow  of  the  stiletto  being 
concealed  in  the  hollow  between  the  binding  and 
the  leather  back.  But,  unluckily,  the  stiletto  proved 
to  be  two  inches  longer  than  the  volume,  and  Casa- 
nova was  obliged  to  task  his  ingenuity  to  find  a 
remedy  for  this  defect.  "  I  told  Lorenzo,"  says  Us, 


CASANOVA.  93 

"that  I  was  desirous  of  celebrating  Michaelmas 
-day  with  two  great  plates  of  macaroni,  dressed 
with  butter  and  Parmesan  cheese,  and  that  I  wished 
to  give  one  to  the  prisoner  who  had  lent  me  his 
books.  He  answered  that  the  same  prisoner  had 
•expressed  a  wish  to  borrow  my  great  book  :  I  told 
him  I  would  send  it  with  the  macaroni,  and  ordered 
him  to  procure  me  the  largest  dish  he  could ;  I 
would  myself  fill  it.  While  Lorenzo  went  for  the 
dish,  I  wrapped  up  the  hilt  in  paper,  and  stuck  it 
behind  the  binding.  1  was  convinced  that,  if  I  put 
a  large  dish  of  macaroni  on  the  top  of  the  book, 
Lorenzo's  attention  would  be  so  occupied  in  carry- 
ing that  safely,  that  he  never  would  perceive  the 
end  of  the  iron  projecting :  I  informed  Balbi  of  this, 
and  charged  him  to  be  particularly  cautious  to  take 
the  dish  and  book  together.  On  Michaelmas  day 
Lorenzo  came  with  a  great  pan,  in  which  the  mac- 
aroni  was  stewed  ;  I  immediately  added  the  butter, 
and  poured  it  into  both  dishes,  filling  them  up  with 
grated  Parmesan  cheese ;  the  dish  for  the  monk  I 
filled  to  the  brim,  and  the  macaroni  swam  in  butter. 
I  put  the  dish  upon  the  volume,  the  former  being 
half  as  broad  as  the  book  was  long,  and  gave  them 
to  Lorenzo,  with  the  back  of  the  book  turned  to- 
wards him,  telling  him  to  stretch  out  his  arms  and 
to  go  slowly,  that  the  butter  might  not  run  over  on 
the  cover.  I  observed  him  steadily  ;  he  could  not 
turn  his  eyes  away  from  the  butter,  which  he  feared 
to  spill ;  he  proposed  to  take  the  dish  first,  and  then 
return  for  the  book,  but  I  told  him  by  so  doing  my 
present  would  lose  half  its  value ;  he  consented  to 
take  both  at  last,  observing  that  it  would  not  be  his 
fault  if  the  butter  ran  over.  I  followed  him  with 


94  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

my  eyes  as  far  as  I  could,  and  soon  heard  Balbi. 
cough  three  times,  the  concerted  signal  of  the  sue- 
cess  of  my  stratagem."  It  must  be  owned  that 
the  rulers  of  Venice  were  fairly  entitled  to  the 
character  of  being  lynx-eyed  ;  but  Lorenzo  affords 
a  proof  that  they  did  not  always  succeed  in  choos- 
ing agents  whose  optics  were  as  piercing  as  their 
own. 

Balbi  now  set  to  work  with  the  stiletto.  Though 
he  was  young  and  strong,  he  did  not  labour  with 
the  same  spirit  which  had  been  displayed  by  Casa- 
nova, to  whom  he  often  wrote,  complaining  of  the 
toil  he  had  to  encounter,  and  expressing  his  fears 
that  it  would  be  unavailing.  As,  however,  the  floor 
presented  but  few  obstacles,  he  had  advanced  so 
far  by  the  middle  of  October  that  only  the  last 
plank  remained  to  be  cut  through.  To  push  in  the 
ceiling  was  all  that  would  then  be  requisite  to  open 
a  passage ;  and  this,  of  course,  was  not  to  be  done 
till  the  moment  arrived  for  their  flight.  But,  while 
Casanova  was  exulting  in  the  idea  of  speedily  re- 
gaining his  liberty,  a  formidable  impediment  was 
thrown  in  his  way.  He  heard  the  outer  door  open, 
and  instantly  made  the  preconcerted  signal  to  Bal- 
bi to  desist  from  working.  Lorenzo  entered,  ac- 
companied by  two  of  his  underlings  and  a  prisoner, 
and  apologized  for  being  obliged  to  bring  him  a 
scoundrel  as  a  companion.  The  person  whom  he 
thus  flatteringly  described  was  a  very  ill-looking, 
small,  thin  man,  apparently  between  thirty  and 
forty,  wearing  a  shabby  dress  and  a  round  black 
wig.  After  having  ordered  a  mattress  for  the  new- 
corner,  and  informed  him  that  tenpence  a  day  was 
allowed  for  his  support,  Lorenzo  took  his  leave. 


CASANOVA.  95 

The  name  of  Casanova's  unwelcome  comrade 
was  Sorodaci.  In  calling  him  a  scoundrel  the 
jailer  had  not  been  guilty  of  slander.  He  was  a 
common  informer  and  spy  of  the  worst  class,  who 
was  sent  to  prison  for  having  deceived  the  council 
by  false  information,  while  at  the  same  time  he  had 
betrayed  his  own  cousin.  He  was  a  compound 
of  knavery,  ignorance,  superstition,  and  gluttony. 
Disgusted  as  Casanova  was  with  him,  he  neverthe- 
less humoured  him  on  certain  points,  to  forward 
his  own  purposes;  he  condoled  with  him  on  his 
captivity,  flattered  him  with  hopes  of  a  speedy  re- 
lease, and  "  procured  for  him,  through  Lorenzo,  im- 
ages to  feed  his  superstition,  and  plenty  of  garlic 
and  strong  wine  to  feed  his  appetite." 

It  was  politic  in  Casanova  to  foster  the  supersti- 
tious feelings  of  Sorodaci,  for  it  was  on  them  that 
he  meant  to  work.  There  was.  indeed,  no  other 
point  on  which  the  spy  was  tangible ;  to  appeal 
to  the  honour  or  gratitude  of  such  a  caitiff  would 
have  been  labour  lost.  To  wait  till  he  was  removed 
would  have  been  to  relinquish  all  hope  of  escape 
October  was  now  wearing  rapidly  away,  and  the 
time  was  at  hand  when,  if  ever,  the  attempt  must 
be  made.  The  inquisitors  and  their  secretary  were 
accustomed  to  visit  annually,  on  the  first  of  Novem- 
ber, some  villages  on  the  mainland  ;  and  Lorenzo- 
took  the  opportunity  of  their  absence  to  get  merr* 
the  preceding  evening,  so  merry  that  he  did  no» 
rise  till  late  next  morning  to  visit  his  prisoners. 
The  night  of  the  last  of  October  was  consequently 
fixed  upon  for  the  completion  of  their  enterprise. 
Casanova  therefore  instructed  Balbi  to  recommence 
.his  operations  precisely  at  a  certain  hour,  aod  to 
discontinue  them  at  another. 


96  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

«4  It  now,"  says  Casanova,  "  only  remained  ta 
work  on  the  superstition  of  Sorodaci  so  effectually 
as .  to  overawe  him,  and  prevent  his  betraying  or 
marring  our  plot.  Accordingly,  after  he  had  eat. 
en  with  me  one  evening,  I  assumed  the  air  of  one 
inspired,  and  bade  him  seat  himself  and  listen  tc 
me.  '  You  must  know,'  said  1,  '  that  this  morning 
early  the  Virgin  appeared  to  me  in  a  vision,  ano 
said  to  me,  that  as  you  were  a  fervent  worshippei 
of  her  holy  rosary,  to  reward  your  devotion  she 
would  depute  an  angel  in  human  form,  who  would 
descend  through  an  aperture  in  the  ceiling  to  you, 
and  free  you  in  the  space  of  five  or  six  days.  Thia 
angel,  she  told  me,  would  commence  his  work  at  the 
stroke  of  twelve,  and  continue  it  till  half  an  hour 
before  sunset.  Accompanied  by  this  angel,  you 
and  I  were  to  quit  our  prison  ;  and  if  you  swore 
to  renounce  the  trade  of  a  spy,  and  reformed,  I  was 
to  take  care  of  you  for  the  future.' 

"  I  observed  with  the  most  earnest  attention  the 
countenance  of  the  fellow,  who  seemed  petrified  at 
my  information.  He  remained  silent  for  an  hour, 
and  then  asked  when  the  angel  would  descend,  and 
whether  we  should  hear  him  as  he  broke  through 
the  prison.  '  Certainly,'  said  I,  *  he  will  come  at 
the  twelfth  hour ;  we  shall  hear  him  at  work,  and 
after  four  hours,  during  which  he  will  complete 
his  task,  he  will  retire.'  '  Probably  you  have 
dreamed  this,'  said  he  :  I  denied  it,  and  asked  wheth- 
er he  were  determined  to  renounce  the  trade  of  a 
spy.  Instead  of  answering  directly,  he  asked  me 
whether  it  would  not  be  time  enough  to  renounce* 
his  profession  some  time  hence.  I  gave  him  for 
consideration  till  the  coming  of  the  angel,  but  as 


CASANOVA.  97 

him  that  if  by  that  time  he  had  not  taken  the 
oath,  he  should  not  be  rescued.  I  was  astonished 
at  the  calmness  of  his  mind ;  he  seemed  certain 
of  the  non-appearance  of  the  celestial  visiter,  and 
pitied  me.  I  was  impatient  for  the  clock  to  strike 
twelve,  and  enjoyed  the  idea  of  the  confusion  and 
terror  which  I  was  certain  this  credulous  man 
would  manifest  at  the  promised  noise.  My  plan 
could  not  fail,  unless  Lorenzo  had  forgotten  to  give 
the  book  containing  my  instructions  to  Balbi. 

"  At  our  meal  at  noon  I  drank  nothing  but  water ; 
Sorodaci  drank  all  the  wine,  and  ate  a  great  quan. 
tity  of  garlic.  As  the  clock  struck  twelve  I  threw 
myself  on  the  floor,  and  cried  out,  *  The  angel 
comes  !'  he  imitated  me,  and  we  remained  an  hour 
silent.  I  read  for  three  hours  and  a  half,  and  he 
prayed  to  the  rosary,  every  now  and  then  falling 
asleep  ;  he  did  not  venture  to  speak  aloud,  and 
kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ceiling,  at  which  Balbi 
was  working,  with  the  most  comical  expression. 
As  it  struck  four  I  bade  him  imitate  me,  as  the 
angel  was  about  to  retire  :  we  cast  ourselves  on  the 
earth,  Father  Balbi  ceased,  and  all  was  quiet. 

"  On  the  following  morning  fear,  more  than  ra- 
tional surprise,  was  legible  on  the  countenance  of 
my  companion.  In  two  hours  I  had  informed  Bal- 
bi of  all  that  had  passed,  and  told  him  that  when 
he  had  finished  he  need  only  push  in  the  ceiling  of 
my  cell,  which  he  was  to  do  on  the  night  of  the 
81st  of  October,  and  at  four  we  would  escape  to- 
gether, with  his  and  my  companion.  I  kept  Sor- 
odaci in  a  continual  excitement  by  my  discourse, 
and  never  left  him  to  go  to  rest  till  he  was  nearly 
intoxicated  and  ready  to  fall  asleep.  Everything 
24—7 


98  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

succeeded  to  my  wish ;  the  31st  was  come,  and  I 
•endeavoured  to  persuade  myself  of  the  probability 
of  our  success." 

The  inquisitors  and  their  secretary  had  set  out 
for  the  mainland.  Lorenzo  had  supplied  the  wants 
of  the  captives,  and  was  preparing  for  his  carousal, 
and  the  field  was  thus  left  clear  for  Casanova's  op- 
erations. As  the  clock  struck  twelve  Balbi  be- 
gan his  final  attack  on  the  floor,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  a  piece  of  the  last  plank  and  the  ceiling 
fell  in,  and  was  speedily  followed  by  Balbi  himself. 
**  Now,"  said  Casanova,  as  Balbi  handed  to  him  the 
stiletto,  "  your  task  is  finished  and  mine  begins." 
As  he  did  not  like  to  leave  Sorodaci  alone,  he  de- 
sired the  monk  to  remain  with  him,  while  he  hinr.. 
self  passed  into  the  upper  cell  to  reconnoitre.  At 
the  first  sight  he  perceived  that  Asquino  was  not  a 
man  fitted  for  making  perilous  exertions.  On  being 
told  how  the  escape  was  to  be  effected,  the  count, 
who  was  seventy  years  of  age,  replied  that  he  had 
no  wings,  without  "which  it  would  be  impossible  to 
descend  from  the  roof.  He  candidly  owned  that  he 
had  not  courage  enough  to  face  the  peril  which 
must  be  encountered,  and  would  therefore  stay 
where  he  was,  and  pray  for  those  who  had  more 
strength  and  fewer  fears. 

Casanova  now  examined  the  roof,  and  found  it 
break  so  easily  that  he  doubted  not  of  being  able 
to  make  a  practicable  breach  in  less  than  an  hour. 
Returning  to  his  own  cell,  he  cut  up  clothes,  nap- 
kins, and  sheets,  and  converted  them  into  a  hundred 
feet  of  rope,  the  pieces  of  which  he  took  special 
care  to  knot  together  in  the  firmest  manner.  He 
finished  preparing  for  his  adventure  by  packing  up 


CA8ANOVA.  99 

his  clothes,  his  silk  mantle,  and  some  linen.  Ths 
whole  party  then  removed  to  the  cell  of  the  counts 
Desiring  Balbi  to  get  ready  his  package,  Casanova 
set  to  work  to  enlarge  the  opening  in  the  roof.  Or* 
looking  out,  he  became  aware  that  the  light  of  the 
moon  and  the  fineness  of  the  night  would  not  al- 
low of  their  entering  upon  their  enterprise  till  a  la- 
ter  hour ;  St.  Mark's  place  was  full  of  people  ta- 
king the  air,  some  of  whom  could  scarcely  fail  to 
see  them  scrambling  about  the  roof.  In  three  hours 
the  moon  would  set,  and  they  could  then  proceed. 
Money  being  an  indispensable  article,  Casanova 
told  Balbi  to  request  the  loan  of  fifty  sequins  from 
Asquino.  The  count,  who  was  the  very  personifi- 
cation of  avarice,  was  exceedingly  annoyed  by  this 
request.  To  avoid  complying  with  it,  he  had  re- 
course  to  all  sorts  of  excuses  ;  and  at  last,  weeping 
and  sobbing,  he  asked  if  two  sequins  would  not  be 
enough.  As  no  more  could  be  obtained  from  him, 
the  two  sequins  were  accepted  ;  but  he  took  care  to, 
stipulate  that  they  should  be  given  back,  if  the  pris^ 
oners,  finding  no  outlet,  were  compelled  to  return.. 
So  anxious  was  he  to  save  his  darling  sequins,  that 
he  exerted  all  his  eloquence  to  place  the  many  dif- 
ficulties and  perils  of  their  undertaking  in  formida- 
ble array  before  them,  and  to  dissuade  the  adven- 
turers from  risking  their  necks  in  what  he  consider- 
ed  a  hopeless  enterprise.  Balbi's  courage  was 
checked  for  a  while,  but  Casanova  contrived  to  re- 
store it ;  not,  however,  without  receiving  innumer- 
able  reproaches  from  the  monk  for  having  led  him 
into  so  hazardous  a  situation.  Sorodaci,  who  was 
already  disheartened  by  discovering  that  no  super. 
human  succour  was  to  be  expected,  was  completely 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

'  unmanned  by  the  count's  alarming  representations. 
He  wept,  and  implored  Casanova  not  to  require  his 
death  :  he  should,  he  said,  only  fall  into  the  canal, 
•and  be  perfectly  useless  to  them,  and  therefore  he 
would  stay  behind,  and  pray  to  St.  Francis  all  night 
for  them  ;  they  might  kill  him,  but  he  would  never 
go  alive  with  them.  Casanova  gave  his  assent,  and 
'was  rejoiced  to  get  rid  of  such  a  worthless  and 
xlastardly  associate. 

The  moon  had  now  sunk  below  the  horizon,  and 
it  was  time  to  depart :  but  I  will  give  Casanova's 
own  narrative  of  the  perilous  achievement.  To 
abridge  it  would  diminish  its  interest,  and  might 
produce  obscurity.  "  I  placed  on  the  one  shoulder 
of  Balbi  the  bundle  of  cord,  and  on  the  other  his 
packet,  and  loaded  myself  in  the  same  manner ; 
we  then  dressed  in  our  vests  only,  and,  with  our 
hats  on  our  heads,  looked  through  the  opening  I 
had  made.  I  went  first.  Notwithstanding  the 
mist,  every  object  was  visible  enough  ;  kneeling 
and  creeping,  I  thrust  my  weapon  between  the 
joints  of  the  lead  plates ;  holding  with  one  hand  by 
that,  and  with  the  other  by  the  plank  on  which  the 
plate  which  I  had  removed  had  lain,  I  raised  my- 
self  on  the  roof.  Balbi,  in  following  me,  grasped 
my  band  behind,  so  that  I  resembled  a  beast  pf 
burden  which  must  draw  as  well  as  carry ;  in  this 
manner  I  had  to  ascend  a  steep  and  slippery  roof. 
When  we  were  half  way  up  this  dangerous  place, 
Balbi  desired  me  to  stop  a  moment,  for  that  one 
of  his  bundles  had  fallen  off,  and  had  probably  only 
rolled  down  to  tjie  gutter.  My  first  thought  was 
to  give  him  a  push  that  would  send  him  after  it, 
but  Heaven  enabled  me  to  restrain  myself;  the 


CASANOVA.  101 

punishment  would  huve  fallen  on  me  as  well  as  him, 
for  without  his  help  I  could  do  nothing.  I  asked 
if  the  bundle  was  actually  goiw ;  and  when  I  heard 
that  it  was,  and  that  it  contained  his  black  gown, 
two  shirts,  and  a  manuscript,  I  consoled  him  for  its 
loss :  he  sighed  and  followed  me,  still  holding  by 
my  clothes. 

"  After  I  had  climbed  over  about  sixteen  lead 
plates,  I  reached  the  ridge  of  the  roof;  I  set  my- 
self  astride  on  it,  and  the  monk  imitated  me ;  our 
backs  were  turned  towards  the  island  of  St.  Geor- 
gio  Maggiore,  and  two  hundred  steps  before  us  was 
the  cupola  of  St.  Mark's,  a  part  of  the  ducal  palace 
wherein  is  the  chapel  of  the  doge,  more  magnificent 
than  that  of  any  king.  Here  we  took  off  our  bun- 
dles ;  he  placed  his  ropes  between  his  legs ;  but, 
on  laying  his  hat  upon  them,  it  rolled  down  the 
roof  and  fell  into  the  canal.  He  looked  on  this  as 
a  bad  omen,  and  complained  that  he  had  now  lost 
hat,  gown,  shirts,  and  manuscript ;  but  I  remarked 
to  him  that  it  was  fortunate  the  hat  had  fallen  to 
the  right  and  not  to  the  left,  for  otherwise  it  would 
have  alarmed  the  sentinel  in  the  arsenal. 

"  After  looking  about  me  a  little,  I  bid  the  monk 
remain  quite  still  here  till  my  return,  and  climbed 
along  the  roof,  my  dagger  in  my  hand.  I  crept  in 
this  manner  for  an  hour,  trying  to  find  something 
to  which  I  might  fasten  my  rope,  to  enable  me  to 
descend ;  but  all  the  places  I  looked  down  into 
were  enclosed  ones,  and  there  were  insuperable 
difficulties  in  getting  to  the  canonica  on  the  other 
side  of  the  church;  yet  everything  must  be  at. 
tempted,  and  I  must  hazard  it  without  allowing 
myself  to  think  too  long  on  the  darger.  About 


102  PERILOUS    <  ^VENTURES. 

two  thirds  of  the  way  down  the  side  of  the  roof  I 
observed  a  dormant  window,  which  probably  open* 
ed  on  some  passage  leading  to  the  dwelling-places 
not  within  the  limits  of  the  prisons,  and  I  thought  I 
should  find  some  of  the  doors  going  out  of  it  open 
at  daybreak.  If  any  one  should  meet  us  and  take 
us  for  state  prisoners,  he  would  find,  I  determined, 
some  difficulty  in  detaining  us.  With  this  reso- 
lution, and  with  one  leg  stretched  out  towards  the 
window,  I  let  myself  slide  gently  down  till  I  reach- 
ed the  little  roof  of  it  that  ran  parallel  to  the  great 
one,  and  seated  myself  upon  it.  I  then  leaned  over, 
and  by  feeling  discovered  it  to  be  a  window  with 
small  round  panes  of  glass,  cased  in  lead,  behind  a 
grating ;  to  penetrate  this  required  a  file,  and  I 
had  only  my  stiletto.  Bitterly  disappointed,  and 
in  the  greatest  embarrassment,  I  seemed  incapable 
of  coming  to  a  determination,  when  the  clock  of 
St.  Mark's  striking  midnight,  aroused  my  fainting 
resolution  ;  I  remembered  that  this  sound  announ- 
ced the  beginning  of  All  Saints'  day.  When  mis- 
fortune drives  a  strong  mind  to  devotion,  there  is 
always  a  little  superstition  mingled  with  it ;  that 
bell  startled  me  to  action,  and  promised  me  victory. 
Lying  on  my  stomach  and  stretching  over,  I  struck 
violently  against  the  grating  with  my  dagger,  in 
the  hope  of  forcing  it  in  ;  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
four  of  the  wooden  squares  were  broken,  and  my 
hand  grasped  the  woodwork  ;  the  panes  of  glass 
were  speedily  demolished,  for  I  heeded  not  the 
cutting  of  my  hand. 

"  I  now  returned  to  the  top  of  the  roof,  and  crept 
back  to  my  companion  ;  I  found  him  in  a  dreadful 
rage,  railing  against  me  for  having  left  him  two 


CASANOVA.  103 

hours  ;  he  at  last  thought  I  must  have  fallen  over, 
and  was  about  to  return  to  his  prison.  lie  asked 
me  what  were  my  intentions.  You  will  soon  see, 
said  I ;  and,  packing  our  bundles  on  our  necks  again, 
I  bade  him  follow  me.  When  we  reached  the 
roof  of  the  window.  I  explained  to  him  what  I  had 
done  and  what  I  intended  to  do.  I  asked  his  ad- 
vice as  to  the  best  mode  of  getting  in  at  it.  It 
would  be  easy  for  the  first  one,  as  the  second  would 
hold  the  rope  ;  but  what  would  the  last  one  do  ?  In 
leaping  down  from  the  window  to  the  floor  he  might 
break  a  leg,  for  we  knew  nothing  of  the  space  be- 
tween. The  monk  instantly  proposed  I  should  let 
him  down  first,  and  afterward  think  how  I  should 
get  in  myself.  I  was  sufficiently  master  of  myself 
to  conceal  my  indignation  at  this  proposal,  and  to 
proceed  to  execute  his  wish.  I  tied  a  rope  round 
my  companion,  and,  sitting  astride  of  the  window- 
roof,  let  him  down  to  the  window,  telling  him  to 
rest  his  elbows  on  the  roof,  and  to  put  his  feet 
through  the  hole  I  had  made.  I  then  lay  down 
again  on  the  roof,  and  assured  him  that  I  would 
hold  the  rope  fast. 

"  Balbi  came  safely  down  upon  the  floor,  untied 
himself,  and  I  drew  the  rope  back ;  but,  in  doing 
this,  I  found  that  the  space  from  the  window  to  the 
floor  was  ten  times  my  arm's  length;  it  was  im- 
possible, therefore,  to  jump  this.  Balbi  called  to 
me  to  throw  the  rope  to  him  ;  but  I  took  care  not 
iO  follow  his  absurd  and  selfish  counsel.  I  now 
determined  on  returning  to  the  great  roof,  and  I 
discovered  a  cupola  at  a  place  where  I  had  not 
been ;  it  brought  me  to  a  stage  laid  with  lead 
plates,  and  which  had  a  trapdoor*  covered  with 


104  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

two  folding  shutters.  I  found  here  a  tub  pull  of 
fresh  lime,  building  tools,  and  a  tolerably  lot,,'  lad* 
der  ;  the  latter,  of  course,  attracted  my  particular 
attention.  1  tied  my  rope  round  one  of  the  rounds, 
and,  climbing  up  the  roof  again,  drew  the  ladder 
after  me.  This  ladder  I  must  contrive  to  get  in  at 
the  window,  and  it  was  twelve  times  the  length  of 
my  arm.  Now  I  missed  the  help  of  the  monk.  I 
let  the  ladder  down  to  the  gutter,  so  that  one  end 
leaned  against  the  window,  while  the  other  stood 
in  the  gutter  ;  I  drew  it  up  to  me  again  as  I  leaned 
over,  and  endeavoured  to  get  the  end  in  at  the  win. 
dow,  but  in  vain ;  it  always  came  over  the  roof, 
and  the  morning  might  arrive  and  find  me  here, 
and  bring  Lorenzo  soon  after  it.  I  determined, 
therefore,  to  slide  down  to  the  gutter,  in  order  to 
give  the  ladder  the  right  direction.  This  gutter 
of  marble  yielded  me  a  resting-place  while  1  lay 
at  length  upon  it ;  and  I  succeeded  in  putting  the 
ladder  a  foot  into  the  window,  which  diminished 
its  weight  considerably  ;  but  it  was  necessary  to 
push  it  in  two  feet  more,  when  I  should  only  have 
to  climb  back  to  the  window-roof,  and  by  means 
of  the  line  draw  it  entirely  in.  To  effect  this  I 
was  compelled  to  raise  myself  on  my  knees ;  and 
while  I  was  doing  so  they  slipped  off  the  gutter, 
and  I  lay  with  only  my  breast  and  elbows  upon  it. 
I  exerted  all  my  strength  to  draw  my  body  up 
again,  and  to  place  myself  on  the  gutter.  Fortu- 
nately, I  had  no  trouble  with  the  ladder  ;  it  was 
now  three  feet  in  the  window,  and  did  not  move. 
As  soon  as  I  found  that  I  lay  firm,  I  endeavoured 
to  raise  my  right  knee  up  to  the  level  of  the  gut- 
ter.  I  had  nearly  succeeded,  when  the  effort  gava 


CASANOVA.  105 

me  a  fit  of  the  cramp,  as  paralyzing  as  it  was  pain- 
ful. What  a  moment !  I  lay  for  two  minutes 
motionless  ;  at  length  the  pain  subsided,  and  I  sue- 
ceeded  in  raising  one  knee  after  the  other  upon 
the  marble  again  ;  I  rested  a  few  minutes,  and 
then  pushed  the  ladder  still  farther  into  the  win« 
iow.  Sufficiently  experienced  in  the  laws  of  equi- 
librium  by  this  adventure,  I  returned  to  the  win- 
dow  roof,  and,  drawing  the  ladder  entirely  in,  my 
companion  received  the  end  of  it  and  secured  it ; 
I  then  threw  in  the  rope  and  bundle,  and  soon  re- 
joined  him.  After  brief  congratulations,  I  felt 
about  to  examine  the  dark  and  narrow  place  we 
were  in. 

"  We  came  to  a  grated  window,  which  opened 
on  my  raising  the  latch,  and  we  entered  a  large 
hall ;  we  felt  round  the  walls,  and  met  with  a  table 
surrounded  by  arm-chairs.  I  at  length  found  a 
window,  opened  the  sash  of  it,  and  looked  by  star- 
light  down  a  fearful  depth ;  here  no  descent  by 
rope  was  practicable.  I  returned  to  the  place 
where  we  had  left  our  things,  and,  sitting  down  in 
an  arm-chair,  was  seized  with  such  an  invincible 
desire  to  sleep,  that  if  I  had  been  told  it  was  death 
I  should  have  welcomed  it :  the  feeling  was  inde- 
scribable. At  the  third  hour  the  noise  of  the  monk 
awoke  me  ;  he  said  my  sleeping  at  such  a  time  and 
place  was  incomprehensible ;  but  nature  had  over- 
come  me ;  I  had  gained,  however,  a  little  strength 
by  my  rest. 

"  I  said,  as  I  arose,  that  this  was  no  prison,  and 
that,  therefore,  there  must  be  an  exit  somewhere. 
i  searched  till  I  found  a  large  iron  door,  and  op- 
posite to  it  was  a  smaller  one  with  a  kevhol* ;  I 


106  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

put  my  stiletto  into  it,  and  exclaimed,  Heaven 
it  may  not  be  a  cupboard.  After  some  efforts  t he- 
lock  yielded,  and  we  entered  a  small  room,  in  which* 
was  a  table  with  a  key  upon  it ;  I  tried  it ;  it  open, 
ed  the  door,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  closet  filled 
with  papers :  it  was  the  archive-chamber.  We 
ascended  some  steps,  and,  passing  through  a  glass 
door,  entered  the  chancery  of  the  doge.  I  now 
knew  where  I  was ;  and,  as  in  letting  ourselves 
down  we  might  get  into  a  labyrinth  of  small  courts,. 
I  seized  an  instrument  with  which  the  parchments 
are  pierced  to  affix  the  seals;  this  tool  I  bid  Balbi 
stick  into  the  chink  in  the  door  which  I  made  with 
my  bolt,  working  it  about  on  all  sides,  not  caring 
for  the  noise,  till  I  had  made  a  tolerable  hole ;  but 
the  projecting  splinters  threatened  to  tear  our  skin 
and  clothes,  and  it  was  five  feet  from  the  floor  to 
the  opening,  for  I  had  chosen  the  place  where  the 
boards  were  the  thinnest.  I  drew  a  chair  to  it, 
which  the  monk  got  on,  stuck  his  arms  and  head 
through  the  opening,  and  I  pushed  the  rest  of  him 
through  into  a  chamber,  the  darkness  of  which  did 
not  alarm  rne  ;  I  knew  where  we  were,  and  threw 
my  bundle  to  him,  but  left  the  rope  behind.  But  I 
had  no  one  to  aid  me ;  on  which  account  I  placed 
a  chair  on  the  top  of  two  others,  and  got  through- 
the  aperture  as  far  as  to  my  loins,  when  I  desired 
Balbi  to  pull  me  through  with  all  his  force,  regard, 
less  of  the  pain  the  laceration  of  my  flesh  gave  me. 
We  hastened  down  two  flights  of  steps,  and  arri- 
ved at  the  passage  leading  to  the  royal  stairs,  as 
they  are  called;  but  these,  wide  as  a  town  gate, 
were,  as  well  as  those  beyond,  shut  with  four  great 
doors :  to  force  these  would  have  required  a  petard, 


CASANOVA.  107 

and  here  my  dagger  seemed  to  say, '  hie  fines  po- 
suit,  this  puts  a  stop.'  I  sat  down  by  Balbi,  calm 
and  collected,  and  told  him  my  work  was  done,  and 
that  Heaven  and  fortune  would  achieve  the  rest 
for  us. 

"  To-day,  I  continued,  is  All  Saints'  day,  and  to. 
morrow  All  Souls,  and  it  is  not  likely  anybody  will 
be  here ;  but  if  any  one  should  come  to  open  the 
doors,  I  will  rescue  myself,  and  do  you  follow  me ; 
if  none  come,  I  will  remain  here  and  die  of  hun- 
ger, for  I  can  do  no  more. 

"  Balbi'a  rage  and  desperation  knew  no  bounds  ; 
but  I  kept  my  temper,  and  began  to  dress  myself 
completely.  If  Balbi  looked  like  a  peasant,  his 
dress,  at  least,  was  not  in  shreds,  and  bloody,  like 
mine.  I  drew  off  my  stockings,  and  found  on  each 
foot  large  wounds,  for  which  1  was  indebted  to  the 
gutter  and  the  lead  plates  ;  I  tore  my  handkerchief, 
and  fastened  the  bandages  with  thread  which  I  had 
about  me ;  I  put  on  my  silk  dress,  which  was  ill  as. 
sorted  with  the  weather,  arranged  my  hair,  and  put 
on  a  shirt  with  lace  ruffles,  and  silk  stockings,  and 
tossed  my  old  clothes  in  a  chair.  My  handsome 
cloak  I  threw  on  the  monk's  shoulders,  and  he 
looked  as  if  he  had  stolen  it.  I  now  approached  a 
window,  and,  as  I  learned  two  years  afterward  in 
Paris,  some  loiterer  below,  seeing  me,  informed  the 
keeper  of  the  palace  of  it,  who,  fearing  that  he  had 
locked  some  one  in  by  mistake,  came  to  release  us. 
I  heard  the  noise  of  steps  upon  the  stairs,  and, 
looking  through  a  chink,  saw  a  man  with  some 
keys  in  his  hand.  I  commanded  Balbi  to  observe 
the  strictest  silence,  and,  hiding  my  stiletto  under 
my  clothes,  placed  myself  close  to  the  door,  so  that 
I 


108  PERILOUS   ADVENTURER. 

1  needed  only  one  step  to  reach  the  stairs.  The 
door  was  opened,  and  the  man  was  so  astonished  at 
my  appearance,  that  I  was  able  silently  and  quick* 
ly  to  pass  by  him,  the  monk  following  me.  As- 
suming  then  a  sedate  pace,  1  took  the  direction  to 
the  great  staircase ;  Balbi  wanted  to  go  to  the 
church  to  the  right,  for  the  sake  of  the  sanctuary 
(forgetting  that  in  Venice  there  was  no  sanctuary 
against  state  crimes  and  capital  offences),  but  at 
last  he  followed  me. 

"  I  did  not  expect  security  in  Venice.  I  knew  ] 
could  not  be  safe  till  I  had  passed  the  frontiers ;  1 
stood  now  before  the  royal  door  of  the  ducal  palace ; 
but,  without  looking  at  any  one,  which  was  the  best 
way  to  avoid  being  looked  at,  I  crossed  the  Piaz- 
zetta,  and,  reaching  the  canal,  entered  the  first 
gondola  I  found  there.  I  cast  a  look  behind  us, 
and  saw  no  gondola  in  pursuit  of  us.  I  rejoiced  in 
the  fine  day,  which  was  as  glorious  as  could  be 
wished,  refulgent  with  the  first  rays  of  an  incom- 
parable sunrise.  Reflecting  on  the  dangers  of  the, 
past  night,  on  the  place  where  I  had  spent  the  pre- 
ceding day,  and  on  all  the  fortunately  concurring 
events  which  had  so  favoured  me,  gratitude  filled 
my  soul,  and  I  offered,  in  silence,  my  thanks  for 
the  mercy  of  God ;  overcome  by  the  variety  of 
emotions,  I  burst  into  tears,  which  relieved  my 
heart  from  the  oppression  of  a  joy  that  seemed 
ready  to  burst  it." 

Though  he  was  out  of  prison,  Casanova  was  far 
enough  from  being  out  of  danger.  The  fact  of  his 
escape  must  soon  be  discovered,  and  the  myrmidons 
of  the  government  would  be  searching  for  him  in 
all  directions.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  he  landed  at 


CASANOVA.  103 

Mestre,  he  agreed  with  a  coachman  to  convey  him 
speedily  to  Treviso.  But  he  was  impeded  at  the 
outset ;  for,  while  he  was  bargaining  with  the  driver, 
the  selfish  and  gluttonous  Balbi  had  strolled  away 
to  a  coffee-house.  After  a  long  search,  Casanova 
found  him  drinking  chocolate.  He  dragged  him 
away,  and  they  set  out  on  their  journey.  The  de- 
lay might  have  proved  fatal.  They  had  not  gone 
ten  yards  before  they  fell  in  with  one  Tomasi,  who 
was  not  a  bad  man,  but  was  believed  to  be  one  of 
the  officers  of  the  holy  inquisitorial  office.  He 
knew  Casanova,  came  up  to  him,  and  said,  "  What, 
sir,  are  you  here?  I  am  delighted  to  see  you. 
So,  you  have  just  escaped.  How  did  you  manage 
it?"  "I  did  not  escape,  sir,"  replied  the  fugitive, 
"I  was  set  at  liberty."  "That's  not  possible," 
rejoined  the  questioner,  "  for  I  was  at  Signor 
Grimani's  house  yesterday  evening,  and  should 
have  known  of  your  liberation." 

"  Reader,"  says  Casanova,  "you  can  more  easily 
guess  what  were  my  feelings  at  that  moment  thau 
1  can  describe  them  to  you.  I  found  myself  dis- 
covered by  a  man  whom  I  believed  to  be  paid  to 
arrest  me ;  and  who,  to  effect  his  purpose,  had  only 
to  give  a  wink  to  the  first  police  officer  he  saw,  and 
of  such  Mestre  was  full.  I  told  him  to  speak  in  a 
lower  tone,  and,  descending  from  the  carriage,  I 
begged  him  to  step  a  little  to  one  side.  I  took  him 
behind  the  house,  and,  perceiving  that  no  one  saw 
me,  and  that  I  was  near  a  ditch,  beyond  which  was 
the  open  country,  I  plucked  out  my  stiletto  and 
seized  him  by  the  collar.  Being  aware  of  my  in- 
tention, he  made  an  effort,  broke  from  me,  and 
leaped  over  the  ditch.  Immediately,  without  look 


I  10  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ing  back,  he  began  to  run  straight  forward  as  fast 
as  his  legs  could  carry  him.  When  he  had  got  to 
some  distance,  he  slackened  his  pace,  turned  his 
head,  and  kissed  his  hand  to  me,  as  a  sign  that  he 
wished  me  a  good  journey.  On  my  losing  sight 
of  him,  I  gave  thanks  to  God  that  this  man's  agil. 
ity  had  preserved  me  from  committing  a  crime,  for 
I  meant  to  kill  him,  and  it  appears  that  he  had  no 
bad  intentions." 

Casanova  now  returned  to  the  carriage,  thorough, 
ly  irritated  against  the  monk,  who  had  placed  him 
in  so  painful  a  dilemma.  Their  journey  was  con. 
tinued  in  silence ;  Casanova  was  engaged  in  med- 
itating upon  the  means  of  getting  rid  of  his  compan- 
ion, for  he  was  convinced  that  escape  would  be  im- 
possible if  they  remained  together.  At  Treviso 
he  ordered  horses  to  be  got  ready  for  them  to  pro- 
ceed ;  but  this  was  only  to  blind  the  postmaster, 
for  he  had  no  intention  to  use  them,  nor,  though 
suffering  from  hunger,  would  he  even  wait  for 
breakfast.  Accompanied  by  the  monk,  he  went 

•  out  under  pretence  of  taking  a  walk.  When, 
however,  he  had  got  about  a  mile  out  of  town,  he 
struck  into  the  fields,  over  which  he  determined  he 
would  entirely  make  his  way  till  he  was  out  of  the 
Venetian  territory.  Instead  of  bending  his  course 
towards  Bassano,  which  was  the  shortest  route,  he 
turned  his  steps  towards  Feltre,  rationally  conclu- 
ding that  his  pursuers  would  be  more  likely  to  seek 
him  on  the  former  road  than  on  the  latter.  After 
walking  for  three  hours,  hunger  compelled  him  to 
halt,  and  he  sent  the  monk  to  a  farmhouse  to  pur- 
chase some  food.  Somewhat  recruited,  he  pushed 

-forward  for  four  hours  longer,  at  the  end  of  which 


CASANOVA.  Ill 

time  he  found  himself  more  than  twenty  miles  from 
Treviso.  He  could  go  no  farther ;  his  ankles  were 
swelled,  and  his  shoes  were  nearly  in  pieces. 

"  Stretching  myself  under  a  clump  of  trees," 
says  Casanova,  "  I  made  Father  Balbi  sit  down  by 
me,  and  addressed  him  in  these  words  :  '  We  must 
go  to  Borgo  de  Valsugano,  which  is  the  first  town 
beyond  the  frontier  of  the  republic.  There  we 
shall  be  as  safe  as  if  we  were  in  London,  and  may 
rest  ourselves  ;  but,  in  order  to  reach  that  place,  it 
will  be  requisite  that  we  take  particular  precautions, 
and  the  most  essential  of  them  is  for  us  to  separate. 
You  shall  go  by  the  wood  of  Martello,  I  will  go  by 
the  mountains ;  you  by  the  easiest  and  shortest  road, 
I  by  the  longest  and  most  difficult ;  you  with  mon- 
ey in  your  pocket,  I  without  a  halfpenny,  i  make 
you  a  present  of  my  cloak,  which  you  can  exchange 
for  a  greatcoat  and  a  hat,  and  everybody  then  will 
take  you  for  a  peasant,  for,  luckily,  you  have  the 
look  of  one.  Here  is  all  the  money  that  is  left  out 
of  the  two  sequins  which  I  took  from  Count  Asquino ; 
there  are  seventeen  livres  ;  take  them.  You  will 
reach  Borgo  in  the  evening  of  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row, and  1  shall  be  there  twenty.four  hours  later. 
Wait  for  me  at  the  first  inn  on  the  left  hand,  and 
rely  upon  my  meeting  you  there.  This  night  I 
must  sleep  in  a  good  bed,  but  I  must  be  quiet  in 
it,  which  would  be  impossible  if  you  were  with  me. 
I  am  sure  that  at  this  moment  they  are  hunting  for 
us  everywhere,  and  that  the  description  of  our  per- 
sons is  so  accurately  given  that  we  should  be  ar- 
rested at  any  inn  into  which  we  might  go  together. 
You  see  my  wretched  state,  and  the  absolute  ne- 
cessity of  my  having  ten  hours'  rest.  Farewell, 


112  PERILOUS    ADV£MTUR£S. 

then ;  go  on,  and  let  me  pursue  my  course  by  my. 
self.  I  shall  find  a  lodging  in  this  neighbourhood. 

" « I  expected  all  that  you  have  just  said  to  me,* 
replied  Balbi,  '  but  my  only  answer  shall  be  to  re- 
mind you  of  what  you  promised  when  I  let  myself 
be  persuaded  to  break  through  your  dungeon.  You 
promised  that  we  should  never  part,  therefore 
you  must  not  hope  that  I  will  leave  you  :  your  fate 
shall  be  mine,  and  mine  shall  be  yours.  We  shall 
find  a  good  lodging  for  our  money  ;  we  will  not  go 
to  inns,  and  we  shall  not  be  arrested.' 

" '  You  are  determined,  then,  not  to  follow  the 
good  advice  which  prudence  has  made  me  give 
you?' 

"'Yes,  thoroughly  determined.' 

" '  We  shall  see  !' 

"  I  got  up,  not  without  difficulty  ;  I  took  meas- 
ure of  him  from  head  to  foot  with  my  eyes,  and 
marked  it  on  the  ground  ;  then  drawing  out  my 
stiletto  from  my  pocket,  I  bent  down,  almost  lying 
on  my  left  side,  and  began  to  dig  a  small  excava- 
tion  with  the  utmost  coolness,  and  without  return, 
ing  a  single  word  to  all  his  questions.  After  I 
had  worked  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  I  began  to 
look  at  him  with  a  sorrowful  countenance,  and  told 
him  that,  as  a  good  Christian,!  thought  it  my  duty 
to  advise  him  to  recommend  his  soul  to  God ;  for/ 
said  I,  *  I  mean  to  bury  you  here,  either  dead  or 
alive  :  if  you  are  stronger  than  I,  you  must  bury 
me.  You  see  the  extremity  to  which  your  brutal 
obstinacy  drives  me.  You  may,  however,  save 
yourself,  for  I  will  not  run  after  you.' 

"  Finding  that  he  did  not  reply,  I  set  to  work 
again. 


CASANOVA.  113 

**  At  last,  either  through  fear  or  reflection,  he 
threw  himself  down  by  me.  Not  being  sure  of  his 
intentions,  I  held  the  point  of  my  weapon  towards 
him,  but  I  had  nothing  to  fear.  '  I  will  do  every- 
thing you  wish,'  said  he.  I  immediately  embraced 
him,  gave  him  all  the  money  I  had,  and  repeated 
my  promise  to  rejoin  him  at  Borgo.  Though  1  was 
left  without  a  halfpenny,  and  had  to  cross  two  riv- 
ers, I  congratulated  myself  on  having  achieved  my 
deliverance  from  the  company  of  a  man  of  his  na- 
ture ;  for,  alone,  I  felt  sure  that  I  should  succeed 
in  getting  over  the  frontier  of  our  dear  republic." 

The  step  which  was  next  taken  by  Casanova  is 
incomprehensible,  unless  we  suppose  that  his  intel- 
lect was  transiently  affected  by  what  he  had  under- 
gone. He  himself  confesses  that  he  is  unable  to 
account  for  it.  As  soon  as  his  burdensome  com- 
panion was  fairly  out  of  sight,  he  went  to  a  shep- 
herd, who  was  watching  his  flock  on  a  neighbour, 
ing  hill,  and  asked  him  the  name  of  a  village  which 
was  visible  from  the  spot.  He  was  told  that  it  was 
Val  di  Piadene.  He  then  desired  to  know  who 
were  the  owners  of  several  villas  to  which  he  point- 
ed, and  found  that  they  belonged  to  people  with 
whom  he  was  acquainted,  but  to  whom  he  would 
not  apply  for  aid,  as  he  feared  to  bring  them  into 
trouble.  He  next  inquired  about  a  mansion  which 
he  saw,  and  was  informed  that  it  was  the  residence 
of  the  Grimani  family,  and  that  the  eldest  Grim- 
ani,  who  was  at  that  time  the  state  inquisitor,  was 
then  there.  A  red  house,  which  he  perceived  at  a 
distance,  was  the  last  that  he  questioned  the  shep. 
herd  about.  It  was  the  dwelling  of  a  chief  of  the 
police. 

24—8 


114  PERILOUS    ADVENTURE*. 

Of  all  places  in  the  world,  this  red  house  woufd 
seem  to  be  one  which  a  man  in  Casanova's  circum. 
stances  would  avoid.  Yet  though,  as  he  remarks, 
"  reason  as  well  as  fear  ought  to  have  made  him 
shun  it,"  he  "  mechanically"  descended  the  hill  and 
walked  straight  to  it.  Entering  the  courtyard, 
he  asked  a  little  boy  who  was  playing  there  where 
his  father  was.  The  boy  did  not  answer,  but  went 
into  the  house  and  brought  out  his  mother.  Her 
husband  was  absent ;  but  an  equivocal  expression 
which  Casanova  used  led  her  to  suppose  that  he 
was  a  Signor  Vetturi,  a  wealthy  friend  whom  she 
had  never  seen,  but  who  had  promised  to  visit  them 
about  this  time,  and  this  ensured  to  the  fugitive  a 
hospitable  reception.  In  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion, he  learned  that  the  owner  of  the  house,  will- 
all  his  myrmidons,  had  set  out  hut  an  hour  before 
for  the  purpose  of  apprehending  Casanova  and  Bal- 
bi,  and  that  he  was  to  pursue  them  for  at  least  three 
days. 

The  wife  and  her  mother  were  gifted  with  sweet- 
ness  of  temper  and  kindness  of  heart.  They  ex- 
erted themselves  to  the  utmost  to  make  their  guest 
comfortable,  and  the  mother  dressed  his  bruises 
and  lacerations,  which  he  told  them  had  been  caus- 
ed by  a  fall  from  his  horse  while  he  was  hunting 
in  the  mountains.  "  The  gentle  wife  of  the  thief- 
taker,"  says  Casanova,  "  had  none  of  the  keennes* 
of  the  profession,  for  nothing  could  look  more  like 
a  romance  than  the  story  which  I  told  her.  On 
horseback,  in  white  silk  stockings  !  Hunting  in  a 
silk  suit,  and  without  a  cloak  or  a  servant !  On 
his  return,  her  husband  would  doubtless  make  fine 
game  of  her ;  but  may  God  reward  her  for  her 


CASANOVA.  115 

tvnder  heart  and  unsuspecting  ignorance.  Her 
mother  took  care  of  me  with  as  much  politeness  as 
I  could  have  met  with  from  persons  of  the  highest 
rank.  Respectable  and  benevolent  woman !  she 
spoke  in  a  motherly  tone,  and  while  she  dressed 
my  wounds  she  always  called  me  her  son.  That 
name  sounded  delightfully  to  my  ears,  and  the  de- 
licious feelings  which  it  excited  contributed  not  a 
little  to  my  cure." 

As,  however,  there  was  no  knowing  what  might 
happen  if  he  delayed  his  departure  a  moment  be- 
yond what  was  necessary,  Casanova,  after  having 
recruited  his  strength  by  a  twelve  hours'  sleep,  set 
off  secretly  in  the  morning,  and  was  fortunate 
enough  not  to  be  suspected  by  two  police  officers 
who  were  standing  in  the  courtyard.  The  sight 
of  them  sharpened  his  fears  and  quickened  his 
pace,  and  for  five  hours  he  continued  to  hurry  on 
through  woods  and  over  mountains.  At  noon,  as 
he  was  crossing  a  hill,  he  heard  the  ringing  of  a 
bell,  and,  on  looking  into  a  valley,  he  saw  a  small 
church.  It  was  All  Souls'  day,  and  the  villagers 
were  flocking  to  church  to  hear  mass.  There 
were  moments  when  the  mind  of  Casanova  was 
open  to  devotional  feelings.  This  was  one  of  them. 
"  The  thought  struck  me,"  says  he,  "  that  I  too 
would  go  and  hear  it ;  my  heart  felt  a  craving  to 
express  its  gratitude  for  the  visible  protection  which 
I  received  from  Providence  ;  and,  though  all  nature 
displayed  before  me  a  temple  worthy  of  the  Crea- 
tor, habit  drew  me  to  the  church."  On  entering 
the  house  of  prayer,  he  was  startled  to  see  one  of 
his  former  acquaintance,  Mark  Anthony  Grimani, 
who  was  a  nephew  of  the  state  inquisitor.  When 


116  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

the  mass  was  over,  Grimani  followed  him  out  and 
accosted  him.  "  What  brings  you  here,  Casano- 
va  ?"  said  he,  "  and  where  is  your  companion  ?" 

"  I  gave  him  the  modicum  of  money  that  I  had 
about  me,  that  he  might  escape  by  another  road," 
replied  the  fugitive ;  "  and,  without  a  farthing  in 
my  purse,  I  am  trying  in  this  direction  to  reach  r 
place  of  safety.  If  your  excellency  will  have  th« 
goodness  to  assist  me  with  a  little  money,  I  shall 
extricate  myself  more  easily  from  my  difficulties." 

"  I  can  give  you  nothing,"  said  the  cold-hearted 
Grimani ;  "  but  you  will  find  hermits  as  you  journey 
along,  who  will  not  let  you  die  of  hunger.  But 
tell  me  how  you  contrived  to  break  through  the 
prison  roof." 

"  The  story  would  be  interesting,  but  it  would  be 
rather  a  long  one,"  Casanova  sarcastically  answer- 
ed,  "and,  in  the  mean  while,  the  hermits  might 
perhaps  eat  up  all  the  food  which  is  to  prevent  me 
from  dying  of  hunger."  So  saying,  he  made  a  pro- 
found bow  and  proceeded  on  his  way. 

By  sunset  Casanova  was  so  fatigued,  and  faint 
from  want  of  victuals,  that  his  legs  would  carry 
him  no  farther.  But  here  again  fortune  favoured 
him.  Seeing  a  lone  house  of  a  respectable  ap- 
pearance, he  went  to  it  and  asked  for  the  master. 
His  master,  the  porter  said,  was  gone  over  the  riv- 
er to  a  wedding,  and  would  not  be  back  for  two 
days  ;  but  he  had  left  strict  orders  that  any  friends 
who  might  call  should  be  treated  exactly  as  if  he 
were  at  home.  Casanova  entered,  and  was  provi- 
ded with  an  excellent  supper  and  bed.  From  let- 
ters which  were  lying  about,  he  discovered  that  the 
owner  of  the  house  was  a  gentleman  named  Rom- 


CASANOVA.  117 

benchi,  and  he  addressed  to  him  a  billet  of  thanks 
and  apologies,  and  then  went  his  way.  He  obtain- 
ed a  passage  over  the  river  by  promising  to  pay 
the  boatman  when  he  came  back,  and  he  dined  at 
a  Capuchin  convent ;  so  that  he  got  through  a  long 
march  without  suffering  any  inconvenience. 

Casanova  now  stopped  at  the  house  of  a  friend 
on  whom  he  had  conferred  many  favours.  He  ad- 
vanced  to  embrace  him ;  but,  at  the  sight  of  the 
fugitive,  the  worthy  friend  gave  a  start  of  terror, 
and  desired  him  to  be  gone  without  delay.  Casa- 
nova, however,  stated  his  wants,  and  requested  the 
loan  of  sixty  sequins,  for  which  he  offered  to  give 
a  check  upon  Signer  Bragadino,  at  Venice,  who 
would  instantly  pay  it.  The  reply  was,  that  not 
even  a  glass  of  water  could  be  granted  him,  and 
that  the  speaker  trembled  lest  he  should  incur  the 
anger  of  the  tribunal  for  having  admitted  an  offend- 
er into  his  house.  Enraged  by  such  ingratitude 
and  cowardice,  Casanova  seized  the  dastard  by  the 
collar,  pointed  the  stiletto  at  his  breast,  and,  in  a 
thundering  tone,  threatened  to  put  him  to  death 
"  Shaking  from  head  to  foot,"  says  Casanova,  "  he 
drew  a  key  from  his  pocket,  showed  me  a  bureau, 
and  told  me  to  take  from  it  whatever  money  I  want- 
ed. I  bade  him  open  it  himself.  He  obeyed,  and 
drew  out  a  drawer  in  which  there  was  gold,  and  I 
ordered  him  to  count  out  six  sequins." 
"  You  desired  me  to  give  you  sixty." 
"  Yes,  when  I  expected  to  receive  them  as  a 
friendly  loan  ;  but,  since  I  am  obliged  to  obtain  by 
violence  what  I  want,  I  will  have  only  six,  and  I 
will  give  you  no  check  for  the  sum.  They  will  be 
repaid  to  you,  however,  at  Venice,  to  which  city  I 


118  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

lhall  write,  to  say  what  you  have  forced  me  to  do, 
cowardly  being  !  and  unworthy  of  living,  as  you 
are." 

"  Forgive  me,  1  entreat  you  ;  take  the  whole." 

"  No,  nothing  more.  I  will  go,  and  I  warn  you 
to  let  me  go  quietly,  or  perhaps,  in  my  despair,  1 
may  turn  back  and  set  fire  to  your  house." 

Casanova  then  pursued  his  way.  After  having 
travelled  for  two  hours,  fatigue  obliged  him  to  stop 
at  the  house  of  a  poor  farmer,  where  he  obtained  a 
coarse  supper  and  a  bed  of  straw.  In  the  morning 
he  bought  an  old  greatcoat  and  a  pair  of  boots  to 
match,  and  hired  an  ass  to  carry  him  for  the  rest 
of  the  journey.  His  final  and  most  perilous  trial 
was  now  approaching.  At  Castello  della  Scala, 
the  last  village  on  the  Venetian  frontier,  there  was 
a  guard  stationed.  But  so  well  was  he  disguised 
in  his  recent  purchase,  that  the  sentinel  did  not 
think  him  of  importance  enough  to  be  questioned. 
With  a  joyful  heart  he  crossed  the  border  line,  and 
was  at  length  in  safety.  At  Borgo  di  Val  Sugano 
he  found  Balbi,  who  had  reached  his  destination 
without  encountering  any  difficulty,  and  had  begun 
to  indulge  his  gluttonous  propensities.  For  some 
time  the  monk  proved  almost  as  heavy  a  burden  to 
him  as  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea  was  to  Sinbad ;  but 
eventually  Casanova  succeeded  in  liberating  himself, 
by  procuring  for  him  the  patronage  of  a  rich  canon 
at  Augsburg.  Balbi,  however,  was  not  made  for 
good ;  he  spent  a  long  life  in  profligacy  and  kna- 
very, partly  in  prisons  and  partly  as  a  fugitive,  and 
died  poor  and  despised  in  1783. 

A  i  apid  sketch  of  the  subsequent  career  of  Cas- 
anova will  suffice.  From  Borgo  di  Val  Sugano 


CA5ANOYA.  119 

he  journeyed  to  Munich,  whence,  alter  a  short  stay, 
he  bent  his  course  to  the  French  capital.  At  Paris 
he  was  admitted  into  the  best  society,  obtained  the 
confidence  of  the  Duke  de  Choiseul,  and  was  em- 
ployed  by  that  minister  in  some  pecuniary  negoti- 
ations  and  other  affairs.  He  resided  for  a  con- 
siderable  period  at  Paris,  and  then  recommenced 
his  wanderings.  In  Switzerland  he  visited  Voltaire 
and  Haller,  and  was  well  received  by  them  ;  and 
at  Florence  he  became  acquainted  with  Suwaroff. 
Banished  from  Tuscany,  he  visited  some  other 
parts  of  Italy,  and  then  returned  to  Paris,  but  did 
not  make  that  city  his  permanent  abode.  Still  er- 
ratic in  his  movements,  we  find  him  now  at  Paris, 
now  in  Switzerland,  now  in  Italy,  then  at  Paris 
again,  and  then  at  London.  We  must  next  follow 
him  to  Berlin,  where  Frederic  the  Great  was  about 
to  appoint  him  governor  of  the  Cadet  School.  Cas- 
anova relinquished  this  promotion,  and  took  wing 
to  St.  Petersburg,  where  he  had  several  political 
conversations  with  the  Empress  Catharine.  He 
then  went  to  Vienna,  whence,  however,  he  was  im- 
mediately expelled  by  the  government.  Nor  was 
he  more  fortunate  in  a  new  visit  to  Paris ;  he  was 
driven  from  thence  by  a  lettre  de  cachet.  Spain 
next  received  him  in  1769,  and  for  a  while  he  was  a 
favourite  with  several  eminent  statesmen  ;  but  he 
was  soon  compelled  to  quit  that  country,  and  he 
passed  through  France  into  Italy ;  in  the  course 
of  his  journey  through  France  he  became  acquaint- 
ed with  Cagliostro  and  the  Marquis  d'Argens.  Du- 
ring this  restless  period  of  his  existence,  Casanova 
experienced  frequent  alternations  of  penury  and 
riches.  In  1774  his  pardon  was  granted  by  the 


120  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

Venetian  government,  as  a  reward  for  his  having 
refuted  the  well-known  work  of  Amelot  de  la  Hous- 
saie,  in  which  that  government  is  roughly  treated. 
He  is  said  to  have  also  rendered  other  and  more 
important  services  to  that  republic :  his  travels  were 
probably  connected  with  those  services.  After  a 
short  residence  at  Venice  he  went  back  to  Paris. 
The  period  of  youth  was  now  over,  age  was  rapidly 
casting  its  shadow  over  him,  and  Casanova  began 
to  feel  the  want  of  repose.  That  want  he  was  for- 
tunate enough  to  satisfy,  in  a  manner  most  conge- 
nial to  his  feelings.  In  the  French  metropolis  he 
acquired  the  friendship  of  Count  Waldstein,  a  Ger- 
man nobleman,  who  possessed  large  estates  at  Dux, 
in  Bohemia.  In  1785  the  count  proposed  that 
Casanova  should  accompany  him  to  Dux,  and  be- 
come his  librarian  and  scientific  companion.  Gas- 
anova  consented,  and  thenceforth  ceased  to  be  a 
wanderer.  He  died  at  Vienna  in  June,  1803. 

Besides  his  memoirs  and  his  defence  of  the  Ven. 
etian  government,  Casanova  wrote  a  history  of  the 
troubles  in  Poland ;  an  account  of  his  escape  from 
imprisonment ;  Icosameron,  or  the  History  of  Ed- 
ward and  Elizabeth  ;  and  two  mathematical  disser- 
tations ;  and  trau  dated  the  "  Iliad"  into  Italian  oc- 
tave verse. 


CHARLES    II.  121 


ATTEMPT  OF  CHARLES  II.  TO  RECOVER 
THE  ENGLISH  CROWN;  HIS  DEFEAT  AT 
WORCESTER;  AND  HIS  WANDERINGS 
TILL  HIS  ESCAPE  FROM  ENGLAND. 

WHEN,  on  the  first  of  February,  1647,  the  Scots 
gave  up  to  his  irritated  enemies  the  misguided  and 
unfortunate  Charles  the  First,  they  certainly  did 
not  foresee  that  his  death  on  the  scaffold  would  ulti- 
mately  be  the  result  of  that  act.  Their  sole  object 
was  to  make  him  an  instrument  of  extracting  as 
much  money  as  possible  from  those  with  whom  they 
were  dealing  ;  they  were  not  sanguinary,  they  were 
only  mean.  When,  therefore,  they  found  that  the 
king  was  about  to  be  brought  to  trial,  and  that,  in 
all  probability,  his  life  would  be  the  forfeit,  they 
deemed  it  necessary  to  take  some  steps  to  ward 
off  the  danger  which  hung  over  him.  They  were, 
besides,  animated  by  another  powerful  motive  :  an 
utter  abhorrence  of  the  Independents,  who  were 
now  dominant  in  England.  On  the  sixth  of  Jan- 
uary, the  Scottish  commissioners  in  London  ad. 
dressed  to  the  speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
on  the  part  of  the  Scottish  Parliament,  a  long  letter, 
indignantly  protesting  against  the  trial  of  the  mon- 
arch, the  recent  expulsion  and  imprisonment  of  sev- 
eral members  of  the  Legislature,  the  neglect  of  the 
solemn  League  and  Covenant,  and  the  manifest  in- 
tention  of  "  introducing  a  toleration  of  all  religions 
wad  forms  of  worship."  No  answer  being  given 


122  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

by  the  Commons,  the  commissioners,  on  the  twen- 
ty-second, repeated  their  protest  in  still  more  for- 
cible terms.  Speaking  in  the  name  of  the  Scottish 
Parliament  and  people,  they  declared  that  "  it  will 
be  a  great  grief  to  their  hearts,  and  lie  heavy  on 
their  spirits,  if  they  shall  see  their  trusting  of  his 
majesty's  person  to  the  honourable  houses  of  Par- 
liament of  England,  to  be  made  use  of  to  his  ruin  ;" 
that  they  "  abominate  and  detest  so  horrible  a  de- 
sign against  his  majesty's  person  ;"  and  that,  "as 
they  are  altogether  free  from  the  same,  so  they 
may  be  free  from  all  the  evils,  miseries,  confusions, 
and  calamities  that  may  follow  thereupon  to  these 
distracted  kingdoms." 

Both  these  protests  were  referred  to  a  committee, 
and  that  committee  was  in  no  haste  to  perform  it» 
task.  When  the  answer  was  finally  given,  Charles 
had  been  dead  nearly  three  weeks.  It  bore  the  ti- 
tie  of  a  Declaration  of  the  House,  and  was  of  con- 
siderable length.  There  was  nothing  in  it  that 
could  gratify  the  Scots.  Though  nowhere  debased 
by  invective  or  abuse,  its  language  was  confident 
and  reprehensive,  tinged  at  times  with  sarcasm,  and 
occasionally  with  something  like  contempt.  On 
one  point  alone — the  defence  of  the  king's  execu- 
tion— it  was  manifestly  weak.  With  respect  to  the 
question  of  tolerance  it  was  more  successful ;  and 
the  manner  in  which  this  question  was  treated  must 
have  given  grievous  offence  to  the  Covenanters. 
"  For  the  toleration  of  al1  religions  and  forms  of 
worship  that  this  letter  objects,"  says  the  reply, 
u  we  know  not  whom  they  intend  in  that  charge. 
As  for  the  truth  and  power  of  religion,  it  being  a 
thing  intrinsical  between  God  and  the  soul,  and 


CHARLES    II.  123 

(he  matters  of  faith  in  the  Gospel  being  such  as  no 
natural  light  doth  reach  unto,  we  conceive  there  is 
no  human  power  of  coercion  thereunto,  nor  to  re- 
strain men  from  believing  what  God  suffers  their 
judgments  to  be  persuaded  of;  but  if  they  mean 
only  the  outward  and  public  forms  of  profession  or 
worship,  we  know  no  such  universal  toleration  en- 
deavoured or  intended  among  us ;  neither  yet  do 
we  find  any  warrant  to  persecute  all  that  do  not 
worship  God,  or  profess  to  believe  in  the  same  form 
that  we  do." 

The  Scottish  commissioners  seem  to  have  been 
stung  to  the  quick  by  this  declaration,  and  they  re- 
solved to  depart  suddenly,  without  taking  leave ; 
but  in  their  flight  they  aimed  a  Parthian  shaft  at 
the  rulers  of  the  commonwealth.  They  left  be- 
hind them  an  angry  and  imperious  remonstrance, 
bitterly  censuring  the  Parliament  of  England  for 
its  misdeeds,  and  warning  it  neither  to  tolerate 
"  idolatry,  popery,  prelacy,  heresy,  schism,  or  pro- 
faneness,"  nor  to  "  wrong  King  Charles  in  his  suc- 
cession, as  righteous  heir  of  the  crown  of  these  king- 
doms." But  paramount  above  all  stood  their 
claim,  that "  reformation  of,  and  uniformity  in,  reli- 
gion may  be  settled  according  to  the  covenant ;  and 
particularly  that  Presbyterian  government,  the  con- 
fession of  faith,  directory  for  worship,  and  cate- 
chism, may  be  established !" 

The  Parliament  was  not  slow  to  resent  this  arro- 
gant doclaration.  It  passed  a  resolution,  declaring 
the  paper  to  be  false  and  scandalous,  and  intended 
"to  raise  sedition,  and  lay  the  grounds  of  a  new 
and  bloody  war  in  the  land ;"  and  it  denounced  the 
penalties  of  treason  and  rebellion  against  whoever 
K 


124  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

should  give  aid  to  the  Scots  in  their  mischievous 
designs.  An  order  was  also  issued  by  the  Coin. 
mons  to  set  a  guard  over  the  commissioners,  and 
prevent  all  communication  with  them,  except  in  as 
far  as  might  be  requisite  for  the  supply  of  their 
necessities.  The  commissioners  were  already 
gone ;  but  they  were  followed  to  Gravesend,  stop, 
ped  as  they  were  embarking,  and  brought  back 
to  London.  The  Commons  then  voted  that  they 
should  be  sent  back  to  Scotland  by  land,  under  a 
guard ;  and  this  vote  was  carried  into  effect. 
This  was  followed  by  another  vote,  directing  that 
the  military  force  should  receive  an  addition  of 
four  thousand  foot,  "  for  the  better  securing  Ber- 
wick  and  Carlisle,  and  the  other  new  garrisons 
in  those  parts." 

It  was  not  alone  by  the  remonstrance  of  the 
commissioners  that  the  resentment  of  the  English 
parliament  was  excited.  Even  before  that  obnox- 
ious document  was  presented,  the  Scottish  Parlia- 
ment  had  taken  a  step  which  placed  the  two  gov- 
ernments in  a  hostile  position.  On  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  February  it  had  solemnly  proclaimed  the 
accession  of  Charles  II.  to  the  throne.  Had  only 
the  crown  of  Scotland  been  in  question,  the  Eng- 
lish rulers  would  have  had  no  just  cause  of  quarrel ; 
but  the  Scottish  Parliament  had  taken  upon  itself 
to  df-clare  him  King  of  England  and  Ireland ;  and 
its  doing  so  was,  in  fact,  a  declaration  of  wai 
against  the  new  commonwealth. 

But  though  the  Scots  had  recognised  Charles  as 
iheir  sovereign,  it  was  by  no  means  their  intention 
w>  make  him  their  master.  They  therefore  took 
care  to  specify  that,  before  being  put  in  possession 


CHARLES    II.  125 

of  the  regal  pover,  he  '*  should  give  satisfaction  to 
the  kingdom  in  those  things  which  regarded  the 
safety  of  reHgion,  the  union  between  the  two  king, 
dorns,  and  the  welfare  and  peace  of  Scotland,  ac- 
cording to  the  national  covenant,  and  the  solemn 
league  and  covenant  of  the  two  kingdoms."  Dep- 
uties  were  despatched  to  the  Hague,  where  Charles 
then  resided,  to  make  known  to  him  his  recognition 
by  the  Parliament,  and  the  terms  upon  which  alone 
he  would  be  suffered  to  exercise  his  authority. 

Charles  felt  no  gratitude  for  the  limited  loyalty 
of  the  Scots.  The  very  name  of  the  rigid  cove- 
nanters  was  distasteful  to  him ;  and  he  set  little 
value  upon  a  crown,  the  privileges  of  which  were 
to  be  curtailed  at  their  pleasure.  In  entertaining 
a  lofty  idea  of  his  kingly  rights,  he  already  proved 
himself  to  be  a  true  scion  of  the  Stuart  stock. 
But  there  were  other  reasons  why  he  received  with 
indifference  the  overtures  of  his  Northern  subjects. 
He  had  been  invited  to  Ireland,  where,  at  this  mo- 
ment, under  the  guidance  of  Ormond,  the  royal  af- 
fairs were  in  a  prosperous  condition.  In  that 
country  he  would  have  to  encounter  none  of  those 
annoyances  which  he  knew  awaited  him  in  Scot- 
land, and  thither  he  therefore  resolved  to  go.  Be- 
sides,  he  was  not  without  hopes  of  recovering  the 
Scottish  diadem  on  his  own  terms ;  the  Hamilto- 
flian  party  were  making  efforts  in  his  favour,  and, 
wnat  was  still  more  gratifying  to  him,  the  daring 
and  indomitable  Montrose  was  eager  to  raise  again 
the  royal  standard  in  his  own  country.  To  Mont- 
rose  the  king  gave  a  commission  to  raise  troops  in 
Germany,  and  make  a  descent  in  Scotland. 

The    flattering   visions  which   deluded 


126  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

with  the  prospect  of  unrestricted  sovereignty  in 
Ireland,  were  soon  dispelled  by  the  republican  arms. 
Convinced  that  the  speedy  reduction  of  Ireland 
was  of  vital  importance,  the  rulers  of  the  new  com- 
monwealth resolved  upon  a  strenuous  effort  for  its 
accomplishment.  A  formidable  army  was  sent  to 
Ireland,  with  Cromwell  at  its  head  ;  and  in  Septem- 
ber he  began  his  career  of  conquest  by  the  storm- 
ing  of  Drogheda,  and  by  the  terrific  slaughter  that 
ensued.  Before  the  end  of  the  following  May  he 
had  nearly  completed  his  sanguinary  work ;  and 
what  remained  to  be  done  was  effected  by  Ireton, 
Ludlow,  and  the  dissensions  of  the  royalists  them- 
selves. 

Thus  shut  out  from  Ireland,  Charles  thought  it 
prudent  to  manifest  a  readiness  to  listen  to  the  prop- 
ositions of  his  Scottish  subjects.  Having  found  it 
expedient  to  quit  Holland,  and  met,  also,  with  so 
cold  a  reception  in  France  as  to  discourage  him 
from  staying  there,  he  was  now  residing  in  the  isl- 
and of  Jersey.  There  he  gave  audience  to  Win 
ram,  laird  of  Libberton,  who  was  charged  with  a 
message  from  the  Scots  committee  of  estates,  that 
they  wished  to  treat  with  him,  and  desired  that 
some  town  in  the  Low  Countries  should  be  named, 
at  which  a  conference  might  be  held.  Breda  was 
the  place  fixed  upon  by  the  king.  With  what  good 
faith  he  entered  upon  this  negotiation  may  be  known 
from  the  circumstance  of  his  having  written  to 
Montrose,  apprizing  him  of  Winram's  arrival  and 
urging  him  to  hasten  the  invasion  of  Scotland,  in 
the  hope  that  the  success  of  that  enterprise  might 
save  him  from  the  mortification  of  complying  with 
the  demands  of  the  covenanters. 


CHARLES    II.  127 

The  Scottish  Parliament  and  the  General  Assem- 
bly of  the  Church  having  settled  the  conditions 
which  should  be  imposed  upon  the  king,  their  com- 
missioners proceeded  with  them  to  Breda.  Charles 
was  required  to  exclude  from  his  presence  all  ex- 
communicated persons ;  to  swear  to  the  observ- 
ance of  the  covenant ;  to  ratify  all  acts  of  Parlia- 
ment establishing  the  Presbyterian  church  govern- 
ment and  its  forms  of  worship  ;  to  observe  those 
forms  himself,  and  cause  them  to  be  observed  in 
his  household ;  and  to  consent  that  all  civil  affairs 
should  be  regulated  by  the  Parliament,  and  all  ec- 
clesiastical by  the  General  Assembly.  The  com- 
missioners had  no  power  whatever  to  modify  any 
of  these  articles  ;  they  were  only  to  receive  his  as- 
sent or  refusal.  Charles  objected  to  swear  to  the 
covenant ;  and,  while  he  agreed  to  the  establish- 
ment of  Presbyterianism  in  Scotland,  he  claimed 
the  private  exercise  of  his  own  religion.  His  ob- 
jection and  his  claim  were  declared  to  be  inadmis- 
sible; but  he  still  continued  to  negotiate,  in  the 
expectation  that  Montrose,  who  had  landed  in  Scot- 
land, would  make  such  progress  as  would  either 
overthrow  the  Covenanters,  or  at  least  compel  them 
to  treat  on  more  favourable  terms.  This  hope  was 
crushed,  however,  by  the  defeat  and  death  of  Mont- 
rose. 

To  comply  with  the  terms  dictated  by  his  Scot- 
tish subjects  was  now  the  only  resource  which  re- 
mained to  Charles.  He  therefore  set  his  hand  to 
them,  with  the  exception  of  the  article  relative  to 
his  taking  the  covenant,  which  he  promised  to  sign 
also  if  it  should  be  insisted  upon  when  he  arrived 
at  Edinburgh.  He  sailed  from  Scheveling  under 


128  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

an  escort  of  Dutch  men-of-war,  and  arrived  in  the 
Frith  of  Cromarty  on  the  twenty-third  of  June. 
He  was,  however,  not  suffered  to  land  before  he 
had  signed  and  sworn  to  the  covenant. 

This  was  a  foretaste  of  what  was  in  store  for  him. 
Though  invested  with  the  external  marks  of  royal, 
ty,  he  soon  found  that  he  possessed  neither  power, 
nor  influence,  nor  respect ;  he  was  not  admitted  to 
any  share  in  the  public  councils,  or  allowed  to  have 
any  connexion  with  the  military  force.  While  he 
was  carefully  secluded  from  all  in  whom  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  confide,  he  was  surrounded  by 
men  who  did  not  dissemble  their  hatred  of  his  prin- 
ciples and  opinions,  and  was  beset  by  the  clergy, 
who  lectured  and  censured  him  in  regard  to  his 
most  trivial  actions,  and  descanted  upon  the  sins  of 
his  father  and  the  idolatry  of  his  mother.  To  have 
raised  up  an  insurmountable  barrier  against  any 
future  attacks  on  the  religion  and  liberties  of  the 
people,  would  have  been  a  work  worthy  of  all  praise 
in  those  who  were  at  the  head  of  affairs  in  Scot- 
land ;  but  the  manner  in  which  they  sought  to 
achieve  this  desirable  end  proved  them  to  be  men 
of  cold  hearts  and  narrow  minds. 

While  the  events  which  have  just  been  described 
were  in  progress,  the  breach  between  the  English 
and  Scots  was  daily  growing  wider.  Before  Crom- 
well set  out  to  Ireland,  another  paper  war  had  ta- 
ken place  between  the  parliaments  of  the  two  coun. 
tries,  the  advantage  in  which  was  not  gained  by 
the  Scots.  It  was  only  the  necessity,  on  the  one 
side,  of  pursuing  the  war  with  vigour  in  Ireland, 
and,  on  the  other,  the  want  of  military  and  pecuni- 
ary  means  to  support  a  contest,  that  for  the  present 


CHARLES    II.  129 

kept  the  hostile  parties  from  settling  their  disputes 
by  wager  of  battle.  They  both,  however,  looked 
forward  to  that  inevitable  event,  and  made  their 
preparations  accordingly :  a  considerable  force  was 
arrayed  by  the  Scots,  and  the  English  Parliament 
voted  a  large  addition  to  its  army,  and  recalled 
Cromwell,  whose  victories  in  Ireland  had  rendered 
his  presence  no  longer  necessary  for  the  subjuga- 
tion of  that  unfortunate  island.  The  treaty  con- 
cluded with  Charles  by  the  Scots,  the  language 
held  by  them,  and  the  warlike  measures  which  they 
were  adopting,  convinced  the  English  Parliament 
that  hostilities  were  imminent,  and  they  wisely  de- 
termined to  save  England  from  invasion  by  carry- 
ing the  war  at  once  into  the  heart  of  Scotland. 

At  the  head  of  the  northern  expedition  Fairfax 
and  Cromwell  were  placed  (the  former  as  captain- 
general),  and  they  were  directed  to  begin  their 
march  without  delay.  Both  expressed  their  readi- 
ness to  accept  the  command  ;  but,  after  the  lapse 
of  a  few  days,  Fairfax  began  to  waver :  he  felt,  or 
pretended  to  feel,  scruples  as  to  the  lawfulness  of 
making  a  war  of  aggression  upon  their  Scottish 
brethren.  The  result  was,  that  he  resigned  his 
command,  and  Cromwell  was  appointed  in  his  stead, 
with  the  title  of  captain-general  of  all  the  forces  in 
England. 

The  Parliament  now  came  to  a  vote,  that  "it 
was  just  and  necessary  for  the  army  of  England  to 
march  into  Scotland  forthwith ;"  arid  it  issued  a 
declaration  elaborately,  and  in  some  parts  eloquent. 
ly,  stating  the  grounds  on  which  the  war  was  under- 
taken. This  was  followed  by  a  still  more  remark- 
able  paper,  issued  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.general 
24—9 


J30  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

Cromwell  and  his  council  of  officers,  and  bearing 
the  singular  title  of  "A  Declaration  of  the  Army 
to  all  that  are  Saints  and  Partakers  of  the  Faith  of 
God's  Elect  in  Scotland."  Far  from  being  written 
in  that  kind  of  spirit  which  its  title  might  lead  one 
to  expect,  it  was  a  calm,  argumentative,  and  dignifi- 
ed exposition  of  the  wrongs  which  had  been  done 
to  England,  and  of  the  motives  and  feelings  of 
those  who  were  about  marching  to  demand  redress 
for  them.  There  was  nothing  in  it  that  could  irri- 
tate, unless,  indeed,  the  more  zealous  Covenanters 
might  take  offence  at  the  religious  tolerance  which 
it  inculcated.*  Supplementary  to  this  was  a  brief 
address  to  the  people  of  Scotland  in  general,  re- 
minding them  of  the  strict  discipline  which  the 
English  forces  had  recently  observed  in  their  coun. 

*  "  As  for  the  Presbyterian, or  any  other  form  of  church  gov- 
ernment," says  the  declaration,  "  they  are  not  by  the  covenant 
to  be  imposed  by  force  ;  yet  we  do  and  are  ready  to  embrace  so 
much  as  doth  or  shall  be  made  appear  to  us  to  be  according  to 
the  word  of  God  Are  we  to  be  dealt  with  as  enemies  because 
we  come  not  to  your  way  ?  Is  all  religion  wrapped  up  in  that  or 
any  one  form  ?  Doth  that  name  or  thing  give  the  difference  be- 
tween those  that  are  the  members  of  Christ  and  those  that  are 
not?  We  think  not  so.  We  say,  faith  working  by  love  is  the 
true  character  of  a  Christian  ;  and,  God  is  our  witness,  in  whom- 
soever we  see  anything  of  Christ  to  be,  there  we  reckon  our 
duty  to  love,  waiting  for  a  more  plentiful  effusion  of  the  spirit  of 
God  to  make  all  those  Christians  who  by  the  malice  of  the 
world  are  diversified,  and  by  their  own  carnal-mindedness  do 
diversify  themselves  by  several  names  of  reproach,  to  be  of  one 
heart  and  one  mind,  worshipping  God  with  one  consent.  We 
are  desirous  that  those  who  are  for  the  Presbyterian  government 
should  have  all  freedom  to  enjoy  it;  and  are  persuaded  that,  it 
it  be  so  much  of  God  as  some  affirm — if  God  be  trusted  with 
his  own  means,  which  is  his  word  powerfully  and  effectually 
preached,  without  a  too  busy  meddling  with  or  engaging  the  au- 
thorities of  the  world,  it  is  able  to  accomplish  his  good  pleasure 
upon  the  minds  of  men,  to  produce  and  establish  his  good  pur 
poses  in  the  world  concerning  the  g'veinment  of  his  Church." 


CHARLES    II  131 

try,  promising  equal  strictness  on  the  present  occa- 
sion,  and  calling  on  them  to  stay  quietly  in  their 
habitations,  and  not  be  misled  by  the  craft  and 
subtlety  of  those  who  had  provoked  the  war. 

Cromwell  was  not  one  of  those  who  suffer  the 
grass  to  grow  beneath  their  feet.  On  the  third  day 
after  he  received  his  commission  he  was  upon  his 
way  to  the  North.  Orders  had  already  been  given 
to  put  the  troops  in  motion  from  various  quarters, 
and  concentrate  them  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
York.  From  that  rendezvous  they  continued  their 
march  to  the  border,  and  reached  Berwick  before 
the  middle  of  July.  After  having  been  feasted  at 
York  by  the  lord-mayor,  aldermen,  and  sheriffs, 
Cromwell  arrived  at  Newcastle  on  the  fifteenth, 
where  a  fast  was  kept,  and  the  declaration  which 
has  just  been  noticed  was  agreed  upon  in  council. 
His  army,  which  consisted  of  fourteen  or  fifteen 
thousand  men,  was  still  encamped  at  Berwick. 

While  the  English  republicans  were  thus  pre- 
paring for  a  decisive  struggle,  the  Scots  were  not 
remiss  in  collecting  their  resources  for  the  con- 
test. They  succeeded  in  getting  together  an  army 
of  about  sixteen  thousand  foot  and  six  thousand 
horse,  the  command  of  which  was  given  to  David 
Lesley,  a  soldier  who  had  learned  the  art  of  war 
in  the  German  campaigns  of  the  great  Gustavus. 
Scarcely  more  than  a  fifth  of  this  number  had  seen 
actual  service.  Lesley,  therefore,  determined  not 
to  commit  the  fortunes  of  his  country  to  the  risk  of 
a  battle,  in  which  the  troops  of  his  enemy,  well 
trained  and  habituated  to  victory,  would  have  too 
preponderant  an  advantage.  It  was  his  plan  to 
choose  and  intrench  good  positions,  to  wear  down 
JLj 


132  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

the  strength  and  spirit  of  the  invaders  by  a  tedioiu 
and  unprofitable  war,  and  make  fatigue,  famine,  and 
disease  his  alliea.  The  villages  were  accordingly 
abandoned,  whatever  could  be  carried  off  was  re- 
moved,  what  could  not  be  removed  was  destroyed, 
and  the  hostile  line  of  march  was  converted  into  • 
desert.  Cromwell  had  partly  foreseen  this,  and 
had  directed  a  fleet  with  provisions  to  attend  him 
along  the  coast ;  but  the  supply  afforded  by  this 
means  was  imperfect  and  irregular,  and  was  liable 
to  be  suddenly  suspended.  It  seems  an  unaccount- 
able oversight,  that  at  the  outset  he  did  not  occupy 
and  strengthen  Dunbar,  and  there  establish  his  mag- 
azines. 

Cromwell  entered  Scotland  from  Berwick  on  the 
22d  of  July ;  and,  after  a  march  of  only  four  miles, 
he  halted  at  Mordington,  on  the  verge  of  the  bor- 
der,  where  he  remained  for  two  days.  He  seema 
early  to  have  become  conscious  of  the  difficulty  ol 
penetrating  into  a  country  which  had  been  render, 
ed  a  foodless  solitude.  On  the  25th  he  reached 
Dunbar,  where  he  "  got  some  small  pittance  from 
the  ships,"  which  enabled  him  to  proceed  to  Mus- 
selburgh.  It  was  not  till  the  republican  army  waa 
approaching  the  latter  town  that  it  saw  the  face  ol 
an  enemy,  and  then  nothing  more  than  an  insignif- 
icant  skirmish  occurred.  On  the  seventh  day  after 
crossing  the  frontier  he  came  before  the  Scottish 
capital,  and  there  for  the  first  time  he  descried 
the  congregated  hostile  force.  There  was  nothing 
encouraging  in  what  he  saw.  Lesley,  with  excel 
lent  judgment,  had  selected  a  position  naturallj 
strong,  which  he  had  made  impregnable  at  all  poiuU 
by  flanking  redoubts  and  batteries.  His  right  waa 


CHARLES    II.  133 

covered  by  the  castle  of  Edinburgh,  nls  left  by 
Leith  and  its  fort,  the  guns  of  the  latter  sweeping 
neaiiy  the  whole  front  of  the  line.  A  chain  of 
outposts  occupied  all  the  eminences  and  defensible 
spots  in  the  vicinity  of  this  position. 

The  republican  general  was  now  brought  to  a 
stand.  During  the  whole  of  a  day  and  a  night  of 
incessant  and  drenching  rain  Cromwell  lay  within 
sight  of  the  Scots,  unable  to  advance  and  unwilling 
to  retire.  Want  of  provisions  and  stress  of  weath- 
er at  last  compelled  him  to  begin  his  retrograde 
march  to  M usselburgh.  As  soon  as  the  republican 
army  was  fairly  in  motion,  the  watchful  Lesley 
poured  forth  his  cavalry  upon  its  rear,  which  was 
thrown  into  disorder  by  the  charge.  Cromwell, 
however,  brought  up  his  horse  to  its  support,  and 
"  a  gallant  and  hot  dispute"  ensued,  which  termi- 
nated in  the  discomfiture  of  the  Scots.  In  this  sharp 
engagement  Major-general  Lambert's  horse  was 
killed  under  him  ;  he  was  wounded  with  a  lance  in 
two  places,  and  was  for  a  short  time  in  the  hands 
&f  the  enemy. 

The  English  army  reached  Musselburgh  in  a 
sorry  condition.  It  was  suffering  severely  from 
want  of  sleep  and  provisions,  and  from  the  con- 
stant rain  and  the  miriness  of  the  roads.  But  it 
was  not  allowed  to  recover  itself  in  quiet.  Lesley, 
aware  of  its  plight,  despatched  Strachan  and  Mont- 
gomery with  a  considerable  corps  to  attack  it  in 
its  quarters.  The  Scots  arrived  at  Musselburgh 
between  three  and  four  in  the  morning,  and  made 
so  spirited  an  attack  that  the  piquets  were  driven 
in,  and  a  regiment  of  horse  was  broken.  Crom- 
well, however,  had  expected  this  attempt,  and  was 


1 34  PERILOVS    ADVENTURES. 

consequently  prepared  to  repel  it.  The  Scots  soon 
found  themselves  assailed  by  a  superior  force,  and 
were  ultimately  routed,  and  pursued  to  the  neigh- 
bourhood  of  Edinburgh,  leaving  behind  them  a 
considerable  number  of  slain  and  prisoners.  These 
repulses  of  their  assailants,  though  honourable  and 
gratifying  to  the  victors,  were  of  no  solid  advan- 
tage ;  the  scantiness  of  supplies  for  the  army  still 
clogged  its  operations,  and  Lesley  had  yet  to  be 
drawn  or  forced  from  his  formidable  position.  The 
enemy,  says  Cromwell  in  his  despatch  to  the  coun- 
cil of  state,  hopes  "  we  shall  famish  for  want  of 
provisions,  which  is  very  likely  to  be  if  we  be  not 
timely  and  fully  supplied." 

Having  rested  and  refreshed  his  army,  Cromwell 
proceeded  to  carry  into  execution  a  plan  which  he 
had  devised  for  obliging  Lesley  to  quit  his  advan- 
tageous position.  The  intention  of  the  republican 
general  was  to  move  to  the  southwest  of  Edin- 
burgh, and  threaten  the  communication  of  the  Scots 
with  the  western  counties.  Accordingly,  on  the 
thirteenth  of  August  he  again  marched  from  Mus- 
selburgh,  and  took  post  in  the  Pentland  Hills,  withiv 
sight  of  Edinburgh.  This  movement  produced  no 
other  effect  than  to  fatigue  his  army ;  for,  in  the 
course  of  two  days,  the  scarcity  in  the  camp  drove 
him  back  to  his  recent  quarters. 

While  with  such  indifferent  success  Cromwell 
was  wielding  the  sword,  he  was  also  wielding  the 
pen,  and  with  no  unskilful  hand.  He  addressed  to 
the  General  Assembly  of  the  kirk  of  Scotland  a  let- 
ter, which  was  deficient  neither  in  point,  spirit,  nor 
shrewdness.  He  displayed  equal  ability  in  an  an. 
fiwer  to  Lesley,  who  had  transmitted  to  him  a  dec- 


CHARLES      1.  135 

laration  from  the  commissioners  of  the  General 
Assembly,  with  respect  to  "  tho  stating  of  the  quar- 
rel whereon  the  Scottish  army  is  to  fight." 

It  seemed,  indeed,  as  though  the  theology  of 
Cromwell  were  destined  to  make  more  impression 
than  his  cannon.  He  had  artfully  descanted  on 
the  singular  inconsistency  and  sinfulness  of  rigid 
covenanters  fighting  for  the  cause  of  a  prince  who 
abhorred  their  doctrine ;  and  his  arguments  and 
sarcasms  were  not  wholly  lost.  While  he  was  en- 
camped on  the  Pentland  Hills,  conferences  on  the 
subject  had  taken  place  between  several  of  the  offi- 
cers on  the  outposts,  and  some  of  the  Scots  did 
not  scruple  to  acknowledge  that "  they  had  thoughts 
of  relinquishing  Charles,  and  to  act  upon  another 
account." 

This  feeling  appears  to  have  been  daily  gaining 
strength  in  all  quarters  among  the  more  zealous 
adherents  to  the  covenant.  The  throne  of  Charles 
began  to  be  in  at  least  as  much  jeopardy  from 
those  who  called  themselves  his  subjects,  as  from 
those  who  were  his  declared  and  deadly  enemies. 
It  had  been  intended  that  his  coronation  should 
take  place  on  the  fifteenth  of  August ;  but  that 
ceremony  was  postponed  because  he  refused  to  sign 
a  paper  so  humiliating  in  its  character  that  no  hon- 
est and  high-minded  prince  would  ever  have  set  hia 
hand  to  it.  Seemingly  determined  to  persevere  in 
his  refusal,  he  retired  to  Dunfermline ;  but  thither  he 
was  followed  by  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  and  the 
Earl  of  Lothian,  who  prevailed  upon  him  to  affix 
his  signature  to  the  obnoxious  paper.  In  this,  how- 
ever,  Charles  only  disgusted  his  friends  without 
propitiating  his  enemies  he  acquired,  and  deserv- 


136  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ed,  the  reputation  of  a  hypocrite  and  a  deceiver, 
without  securing  even  the  momentary  benefit  which 
is  sometimes  derived  from  hypocrisy  and  deceit. 

This  paper  bore  the  title  of  "  A  Declaration  by 
the  King's  Majesty  to  his  subjects  of  the  kingdoms 
of  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland."  He  was  here 
made  to  "  sound  the  very  base  string  of  humility." 
He  humbly  and  repeatedly  acknowledged  his  "  guilt- 
iness before  God,"  attributing  it  to  "  education  and 
age,  evil  counsel  and  company ;"  entreated  the  con- 
tinued "  prayer  and  supplication"  of  his  people,  to 
move  Heaven  in  his  favour ;  admitted  the  crimi- 
nality of  his  father;  branded  his  mother  as  an 
idolatress ;  promised  to  have  "  no  friends  but  the 
friends  of  the  covenant ;"  declared  that  he  "  doth 
now  detest  and  abhor  all  popery,  superstition,  and 
idolatry,  together  with  prelacy,  and  all  errors,  her- 
esy, schism,  and  profaneness,  and  resolves  not  to 
tolerate,  much  less  allow,  any  of  these  in  any  part 
of  his  dominions."  He  protested,  also,  that  he  had 
'•  a  full  persuasion  of  the  justice  and  equity  of  all 
the  heads  and  articles  of  the  covenant;"  and  that 
**  he  had  not  sworn  and  subscribed  to  it,  and  enter- 
ed into  the  oath  of  God  with  his  people,  upon  any 
sinister  intention  and  crooked  design  for  attaining 
his  own  ends ;  but,  so  far  as  human  weakness  will 
permit,  in  the  truth  and  sincerity  of  his  heart ;  and 
that  he  was  firmly  resolved,  in  the  Lord's  strength, 
to  adhere  thereunto,  and  to  prosecute  to  the  ut- 
most of  his  power  all  the  ends  thereof,  in  his  station 
and  calling,  really,  constantly,  and  sincerely,  all  the 
days  of  his  life !" 

While  this  war  of  the  pen  was  going  on,  that  of 
the  sword  was  not  slackened.  Having  received  a 


CHARLES    II.  137 

•urn  of  money  for  the  pay  of  his  soldiers,  and  se- 
cured provisions  enough  for  a  few  days,  Cromwell, 
on  the  seventeenth,  once  more  moved  from  Mussel- 
burgh  to  the  west,  and  took  up  a  position  on  the 
Pentland  Hills.  But  the  wary  policy  of  Lesley  af- 
forded no  opening  of  which  his  opponent  could  take 
advantage.  He  had,  besides,  adopted  such  pre- 
cautions as  greatly  embarrassed  the  republicans. 
Dalkeith.  which  was  now  in  their  rear,  was  held 
by  a  Scottish  garrison,  and  he  had  stationed  detach, 
ments  in  several  castellated  mansions,  among 
which  were  Dalhousie,  on  the  South  Esk  ;  Craig, 
millar,  between  Edinburgh  and  Musselburgh  ;  and 
Red  Hall  and  Collington,  on  the  Water  of  Leith. 
These  posts  cramped  the  movements  of  the  inva- 
ders, and  endangered  the  safety  of  their  convoys 
and  stores.  More  than  a  week  having  passed 
without  anything  being  accomplished,  Cromwell,  as 
a  last  resource,  resolved,  on  the  twenty-seventh, 
to  move  in  the  direction  of  Falkirk  and  Stirling, 
with  the  hope  of  drawing  out  Lesley,  and  finding  a 
favourable  opportunity  to  give  him  battle.  In 
drawing  him  out  he  succeeded  ;  in  everything  else 
he  failed.  Lesley  made  a  rapid  march  behind  the 
little  river  which  is  called  the  Water  of  Leith, 
and  fronted  his  antagonist.  But  to  reach  the  Scot- 
tish leader  or  to  elude  him  was  impossible.  With 
few  intervals,  the  whole  course  of  the  Water  of 
Leith  was  at  that  period  a  morass,  scarcely  passa- 
ble when  no  opposition  was  made,  and  wholly  im- 
passable in  the  face  of  an  enemy.  A  cannonade 
was  kept  up  for  several  hours  between  the  two 
armies,  the  only  resdi  of  which  was  a  fruitless 
waste  of  human  life.  Cromwell  himself  was  in 


138  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

some  danger  on  this  day.  In  reconnoitring  the  po- 
sition of  the  Scots,  he  advanced  so  near  that  a  car- 
bineer took  aim  at  him.  The  republican  general 
laughed  at  the  failure  f  this  attempt,  and  shouted 
out  to  the  man,  that  "  if  he  had  been  a  soldier  of 
his,  he  would  have  cashiered  him  for  firing  at  such 
a  distance." 

Foiled  in  all  his  endeavours  to  bring  Lesley  to 
action  or  to  cut  him  off  from  the  west,  his  army 
weakened  by  sickness,  which  was  rapidly  spread, 
ing,  and  his  provisions  exhausted,  Cromwell  was 
obliged  to  break  up  from  the  Pentland  Hills  and 
again  fall  back  upon  Musselburgh.  He  halted  for 
the  night  at  no  great  distance  from  Edinburgh. 
The  night  was  exceedingly  tempestuous,  and  the 
morning  wet,  but  Lesley  did  not  let  these  obstacles 
stand  in  his  way.  Ceasing  to  press  upon  the  re- 
publican rear,  he  hastily  passed  between  Edinburgh 
and  the  Leith,  with  the  intention  of  placing  his 
army  between  the  English  and  their  supplies. 
Cromwell  discovered  this  design  only  just  in  time 
to  frustrate  it  by  a  forced  march  to  the  coast.  "  By 
that  time  it  was  light,"  says  Cromwell ;  "  we  re- 
covered into  a  ground  where  they  could  not  hinder 
us  from  our  victuals,  which  was  a  high  act  of  the 
Lord's  providence  to  us." 

To  remain  at  Musselburgh  under  the  present  cir- 
cumstances was  impossible  for  the  English  army. 
The  coast  between  Berwick  and  the  Frith  of  Forth 
is  almost  without  a  port,  and  the  difficulty  of  land, 
ing  provisions  was  sometimes  rendered  insuperable 
by  a  change  of  wind.  The  republican  army  was 
also  thinned  by  a  violent  dysentery ;  fourteen  hun- 
dred sick  had  already  been  sent  to  England,  and 


CHARLES    II.  139 

there  were  several  hundred  more  in  a  helpless 
state.  Cromwell  therefore  determined  to  retire 
to  Dunbar  and  fortify  that  place,  that  he  might  es. 
tablish  in  it  a  hospital  and  a  magazine.  But  even 
to  make  his  way  to  Dunbar  was  now  become  a  dif- 
ficult task.  The  Scots  were  elated  beyond  meas- 
ure with  having  baffled  the  invaders,  whose  distress- 
ful condition  they  likewise  well  knew,  and  they  had, 
besides,  been  re-enforced  by  three  regiments.  Les- 
ley pressed  close  on  the  heels  of  the  foe  during 
the  march  to  Haddington,  and  charged  the  rear 
brigade  of  horse  with  such  vigour  that  it  would  have 
been  lost,  had  not,  says  Cromwell,  "  the  Lord  in 
his  providence  put  a  cloud  over  the  moon."*  At 
midnight  he  fell  again  upon  the  republicans  in  Had- 
dington, but  was  repulsed.  It  is  probable  that  he 
rather  hoped  to  weaken  and  dishearten  them  by 
these  repeated  encounters,  than  to  make  at  the  mo- 
ment any  serious  impression.  In  this  he  succeed- 
ed ;  for  his  antagonists  reached  Dunbar  in  a  pitia- 
ble state,  and  were  scarcely  able  to  save  their  hind- 
most infantry  from  destruction.  Captain  Hodgson, 
who  was  present,  emphatically  describes  the  Eng- 
lish force  as  "  a  poor,  shattered,  hungry,  discour- 
aged army." 

At  a  short  distance  from  Dunbar  commences  a 
chain  of  mountains,  which  occupies  the  south  of 
Haddingtonshire  and  the  north  of  Berwickshire, 

*  Mr.  Foster,  in  his  valuable  Life  of  Oliver  Cromwell  (Lard 
ner's  Cyclopaedia),  has  fallen  into  a  trifling  error  with  respect  to 
this  skirmish.  Lesley  did  not  make  his  attack  on  the  republican 
army  before  it  reached  Musselburgh,  but  between  Musselburgh 
and  Haddington,  when  the  greatest  part  of  it  had  entered  the 
latter  place.  I  mention  this  merely  to  avoid  the  imputation  of 
having  myself  misstated  the  fact. 


140  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

and,  curving  round  through  the  counties  of  Selkirk 
and  Peebles,  joins  the  range  of  eminences  which 
begins  at  Cheviot,  and  stretches,  under  various 
names,  into  the  southwest  of  Scotland.  That  por- 
tion which  is  situated  in  the  shires  of  Haddington 
and  Berwick  bears  the  name  of  the  Lammermuir 
Hills  :  a  name  which  can  never  be  heard  without 
recalling  to  mind  the  remembrance  of  departed 
genius.  From  Dunbar  to  Berwick,  the  only  road 
for  the  retreat  of  the  invading  army  was  for  some 
miles  through  defiles,  egress  from  which  might  be 
rendered  difficult,  if  not  impracticable,  by  a  vigi 
lant  and  determined  enemy.  The  pass  of  Cock- 
burn's  Path,  seven  miles  from  Dunbar,  is  one  of  the 
most  formidable  of  these  defiles,  "where,"  says 
Cromwell,  "  ten  men  to  hinder  are  better  than  for- 
ty  to  make  way."  It  is  intersected  by  three 
streams,  one  of  which  runs  through  a  wooded  ra- 
vine a  hundred  and  sixty  feet  in  depth. 

Cromwell  entered  Dunbar  on  the  first  of  Septem- 
ber. His  situation  was  such  as  might  well  inspire 
him  with  sinister  forebodings.  His  force  was 
dwindled  down  to  about  seven  thousand  five  hun- 
dred foot  and  three  thousand  five  hundred  horse, 
who  were  exhausted  and  dispirited  by  sickness, 
privations,  and  ill  success :  Lesley,  on  the  contrary, 
was  at  the  head  of  sixteen  thousand  foot  and  six 
thousand  horse,  well  provided,  in  good  health,  and 
animated  by  the  foil  which  they  had  given  to  the 
English,  and  the  prospect  of  having  them  complete, 
ly  at  their  mercy.  So  confident  of  success  were 
the  Scots,  that  they  taunted  the  republicans,  and 
are  affirmed  to  have  even  deliberated  as  to  what  ex- 
tent they  should  wreak  their  vengeance  upon  them. 


CHARLES    II.  141 

*  Here  began  the  pride  of  the  Scots  army  HO  to 
swell,"  says  the  Act  for  appointing  a  Thanksgiving, 
"as  they  quite  forgot  an  overruling  Providence; 
their  scouts  upbraiding  us,  « they  now  had  us  safe 
enough,  and  that  they  had  afforded  us  a  summer's 
quarters,  they  hoped  to  have  it  quickly  repaid  them, 
when  they  came  to  take  up  their  winter-quarters ; 
intending,'  as  they  said, '  to  convoy  up  our  rear  for 
us  to  London.'  Yea,  so  far  had  their  passion  blind, 
ed  them,  and  their  presumption  prevailed  upon  them, 
that,  as  we  were  informed  by  some  of  their  own, 
they  sat  in  consultation  what  conditions  it  was  fit 
they  should  offer  us ;  whether  or  no  quarter  was 
to  be  allowed  to  any  for  their  lives,  and  to  whom 
only,  and  upon  what  terms." 

The  Scots  were  not  without  seemingly  valid  rea- 
sons for  expecting  a  complete  triumph.  It  was  not 
only  that  the  English  army  was  far  inferior  in 
strength,  but  the  Scots  had  so  much  the  vantage- 
ground  that  the  chances  were  incalculably  in  their 
favour,  with  scarcely  the  necessity  for  exertion  on 
their  part.  They  had  less  occasion  for  the  sword 
than  for  the  mattock  and  the  spade.  Thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  country  in  which  he  was  acting, 
Lesley  turned  all  its  local  circumstances  to  account. 
He  took  up  a  strong  position  at  Doonhill,  at  the 
eastern  extremity  of  the  Lammermuir  range,  and 
despatched  a  considerable  detachment  to  occupy 
the  defile  of  Cockburn's  Path.  The  republicans 
confessed  that  "the  ground  Lesley  had  gotten  upon 
was  inaccessible,"  and  that  they  could  not  possibly 
engage  him  on  it  without  extreme  danger.  In  this 
embarrassing  situation,  Cromwell  held  a  council  of 
war,  in  which  a  suggestion  to  embark  the  foot,  antf 


142  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

endeavour  to  break  through  with  the  horse,  was 
rejected  only  because  the  violence  of  the  wind  and 
the  surf  would  not  admit  of  its  execution.  All  that 
could  be  done,  therefore,  was  to  keep  the  army  in 
readiness  for  taking  advantage  of  any  erroneous 
movement  which  the  enemy  might  make,  and  to 
send  out  a  strong  reconnoitring  party  to  the  right, 
to  see  whether  a  vulnerable  point  could  be  found  in 
the  position  of  Lesley. 

To  ensure  entire  success,  the  Scots  had  now 
only  to  hold  their  ground  till  famine  and  disease 
had  completed  their  work  upon  the  enemy;  and 
this  was  Lesley's  intention.  But  he  was  not  mas- 
ter in  his  own  camp.  What  his  skill  had  gained 
was  thrown  away  by  blind  and  presumptuous  fanat- 
icism. The  preachers  who  attended  the  army 
were  loud  in  their  censures  upon  the  backwardness 
of  the  general,  and  in  exhortations  to  the  soldiery 
to  pour  down  upon  their  unrighteous  foes,  over 
whom  they  promised  them,  in  the  Lord's  name,  a 
full  and  easy  victory.  Thus  the  Old  Testament 
was  ransacked  for  examples,  to  stimulate  auditors 
who  were  but  too  well  disposed  to  confide  in  their 
misleaders.  They  succeeded  to  their  hearts'  con- 
tent ;  the  clamour  for  battle  became  so  incessant 
and  imperative,  that,  in  spite  of  his  better  judgment, 
Lesley  was  compelled  to  give  way.  He  began  by 
edging  the  right  wing  of  his  cavalry  down  towards 
the  sea,  and  re-enforcing  it  by  about  two  thirds  of 
his  left  wing  of  the  same ;  at  the  a.ame  time  he  in- 
clined towards  the  right  the  foot  and  artillery.  By 
this  movement  he  interposed  a  larger  portion  of  his 
force  directly  between  the  English  army  and  Ber- 
wick, but  he  lost  all  the  benefit  of  his  original  well  • 
chosen  position. 


CHARLES    II.  143 

From  Broxmouth,  the  seat  of  the  Roxburgh  fam- 
ily, Cromwell,  who  was  there  with  Lambert  and 
Monk,  perceived  the  Scots  descending  into  the 
plain.  His  joy  at  the  sight  was  irrepressible,  and, 
throwing  up  his  arms  towards  heaven,  he  exclaim, 
ed, "  The  Lord  hath  delivered  them  into  our  hands !" 
Night  was  now  approaching,  and  prevented  an  im- 
mediate combat ;  but  he  resolved  that  at  daybreak 
he  would  fall  upon  them.  It  was  not,  however,  till 
six  in  the  morning  of  the  third  of  September  that 
he  could  commence  the  battle  by  which  the  fate  of 
nis  army  must  be  decided. 

Six  regiments  of  horse  and  three  and  a  half  of 
foot  formed  the  first  line  of  the  commonwealth 
army.  Lambert,  Fleetwood,  Whalley,  and  Twis- 
tleton  headed  the  horse ;  the  foot  was  commanded 
by  Monck.  The  second  line  was  composed  of  the 
brigades  of  Colonels  Pride  and  Overton,  the  artille- 
ry, and  two  regiments  of  horse.  "  The  Lord  of 
Hosts"  was  the  battle-cry  of  the  assailants,  "  The 
Covenant"  that  of  the  Scots.  The  first  shock  took 
place  between  the  cavalry  of  the  two  armies,  and 
it  was  terrible.  Cromwell  owns  "that  it  was  a 
very  hot  dispute  at  sword's  point."  No  decisive 
effect  was  produced  by  it.  The  first  line  of  Eng- 
lish foot  was  brought  into  action  against  the  Scots' 
right  wing,  but  it  was  met  with  such  spirit  that  it 
was  compelled  to  give  ground.  Cromwell,  how- 
ever,  was  at  hand,  to  remedy  the  check  it  had  re- 
ceived. "  My  own  regiment,"  says  he,  "  under  the 
command  of  Lieutenant-colonel  Goffe  and  my  Ma. 
jor  White,  did  come  seasonably  in,  and  at  push  of 
pike  did  repel  the  stoutest  regiment  the  enemy  had 
there,  merely  with  the  courage  which  the  Lord  was 


144  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

pleased  to  give,  which  proved  a  great  amazement 
to  the  residue  of  their  foot."  There  was  at  least 
one  Scottish  brigade  which  was  not  thrown  into  "  a 
great  amazement"  on  this  occasion.  Though  it 
was  fiercely  assailed  "at  push  of  pike  and  butt  end 
of  the  musket,"  it  stood  firm  till  "  a  troop  of  horse 
charged  from  one  end  tc  the  other  of  it,  and  left  it 
to  the  mercy  of  the  foct."  But  here  ceased  all 
display  of  courage  on  the  part  of  Lesley's  army. 
The  English  cavalry  was  now  sweeping  the  field, 
and  charging  the  enenvy's  horse  and  foot  with  all 
the  vigour  that  a  desire  for  glory  and  revenge  could 
excite.  At  this  moment  ihe  sun  arose  from  the  sea, 
and  Cromwell  exclaimed,  "  Now  let  God  arise,  and 
his  enemies  shall  be  scattered !"  He  was  answer- 
ed by  a  universal  shout  from  his  troops.  And 
scattered  the  Scots  were  It  was  only  by  their 
right  wing  that  any  resolution  had  been  manifested  ; 
and  when  that  was  overthrown,  all  was  lost.  In  less 
than  an  hour  they  were  put  to  total  rout.  Cavalry 
and  infantry  were  mingled  in  the  wildest  confusion, 
throwing  away  their  arms,  and  flying  in  panic  ter- 
ror, like  a  flock  of  scared  dheep,  before  the  victo- 
rious republicans,  who  "  had  the  chase  and  execu- 
tion of  them  near  eight  miles."  Three  thousand 
of  the  Scots  were  slain  in  the  battle  and  pursuit, 
and  about  ten  thousand  were  made  prisoners,  among 
whom  were  two  hundred  and  forty-three  officers,  of 
all  ranks,  from  an  ensign  up  to  a  lieutenant-gener- 
al. The  whole  of  the  baggage  and  cannon  of  the 
vanquished,  fifteen  thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  two 
hundred  standards,  were  the  trophies  of  this  memo- 
rable day. 
Such  were  the  weakness  and  destitution  of  tho 


CHARLES    II  145 

army  by  which  this  great  victory  was  achieved, 
that  the  want  of  hands  and  supplies  compelled 
Cromwell  to  dismiss  five  thousand  "  almost  starv- 
ed, sick,  and  wounded  prisoners."  For  the  escort 
of  the  remainder  to  Newcastle,  a  more  than  equal 
number,  he  could  spare  only  four  troops  of  horse. 
The  fate  of  these  unhappy  men  was  truly  lamenta- 
ble :  a  few  contrived  to  escape  ;  but,  famished  and 
toil-worn,  numbers  dropped  by  the  way ;  several 
were  killed  to  intimidate  their  companions  from 
flying  or  resisting ;  and  in  less  than  two  months, 
more  than  two  thousand  were  swept  off  by  dysen 
tery,  and  the  constitutions  of  those  who  survived 
were  fatally  shaken. 

Lambert  was  promptly  sent  forward  with  six  re. 
giments  of  horse  and  one  of  foot,  and  was  speedily 
followed  by  Cromwell  with  the  remainder  of  his 
forces.  Edinburgh  and  Leith  surrendered  to  the 
conqueror;  but  the  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  amply  sup- 
plied and  garrisoned,  refused  to  open  its  gates. 

Though  the  season  was  far  advanced,  the  weath- 
er unfavourable,  and  the  roads  broken  up  by  the 
rains,  Cromwell  made  an  effort  to  reap  some  farther 
advantage  from  his  victory.  He  marched  to  within 
cannon-shot  of  Stirling,  with  the  purpose  of  storm- 
ing that  town,  but  he  found  it  so  strongly  guarded 
that  he  was  obliged  to  relinquish  his  enterprise. 
This  disappointment  seems  to  have  soured  him ;  for, 
in  his  despatch  to  the  council  of  state,  after  having 
announced  that  some  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Scottish  capital  had  returned  home,  he  concludes 
with  a  bitter  piece  of  satire.  "  I  thought,"  says  he , 
'•  I  should  have  found  in  Scotland  a  conscientious 
peopie  and  a  barren  country :  about  Edinburgh  it 
24—10 


146  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

is  as  fertile  for  corn  as  any  part  of  England,  but  the 
people  generally  given  to  the  most  impudent  lying 
and  frequent  swearing,  as  is  incredible  to  be  be- 
lieved." 

There  being  at  this  season  little  farther  to  be 
gained  by  military  operations,  Cromwell  tried  what 
could  be  done  by  pacific  overtures.  He  according- 
ly addressed  to  the  committee  of  estates,  which 
was  then  sitting  at  Perth,  a  letter,  written  in  a 
moderate  and  conciliatory  strain,  calling  upon  the 
Scottish  government  "  to  give  the  state  of  England 
that  satisfaction  and  security  for  its  peaceable,  quiet 
living"  with  Scotland  which  circumstances  justi- 
fied the  commonwealth  in  demanding ;  in  which 
case  the  Scots  "  might  have  a  lasting  and  durable 
peace,  and  the  wish  of  a  blessing  upon  them  in  all 
religious  and  civil  things."  To  this  communication 
no  answer  was  returned  by  the  committee ;  but  it 
seems  to  have  produced  the  main  effect  which  Crorn. 
well  perhaps  expected  from  it,  that  of  exciting, 
among  a  part  of  the  people,  a  dislike  to  the  contin- 
uance of  the  war. 

Early  in  December  the  Scots  were  foiled,  and 
sustained  considerable  loss  in  an  attempt  which 
they  made,  with  a  body  of  cavalry,  to  fall  by  sur- 
prise  upon  the  quarters  of  Lambert,  who  was  posted 
at  Hamilton,  near  Glasgow.  But  this  repulse  was 
far  less  injurious  to  them  than  was  the  surrender 
of  Edinburgh  Castle,  which  took  place  on  the  24th 
of  the  same  month.  Cromwell  had  for  some  time 
been  making  approaches  to  the  castle  and  forming 
mines,  but  apparently  with  little  prospect  of  suc- 
cess ;  for  he  himself  declares,  in  his  despatch  to 
Lenthall,  the  speaker,  "  I  must  needs  say,  not  an; 


CHARLES   II.  147 

skill  r>r  wisdom  of  ours,  but  the  good  hand  of  God 
hath  given  you  this  place."  By  this  event  the  re- 
publicans obtained  a  firm  footing  to  the  south  of 
the  Forth. 

Thus  ended  the  campaign  of  1650.  To  Charles, 
the  defeat  at  Dunbar  afforded  no  occasion  for  sor- 
row. It  rather,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  to  open  to 
him  a  prospect  of  being,  in  some  measure,  relieved 
from  the  slavery  in  which  he  was  kept  by  those 
who  surrounded  him.  The  situation  of  Charles  at 
Lhis  time  is  thus  described  by  Sir  Edward  Walker, 
who  was  an  eyewitness  of  it :  "  He  is  outwardly 
served  and  waited  on  with  all  fitting  ceremonies 
due  to  a  king,  but  in  his  liberty  not  much  above  a 
prisoner,  sentinels  being  every  night  set  about  his 
lodging,  few  daring  to  speak  freely  or  privately  to 
him,  and  spies  set  on  his  words  and  actions.  His 
bedchamber  is  not  free  to  himself,  the  ministers 
almost  daily  thrusting  in  upon  him  to  catechize  and 
instruct  him,  and,  I  believe,  to  exact  repetitions 
from  him.  In  a  word,  he  knows  nothing  of  their 
counsels,  either  military  or  civil,  but  what  they 
please  to  communicate  to  him." 

Even  Charles,  little  delicate  as  he  was,  was  at 
last  rendered  desperate  by  this  state  of  things,  and 
resolved  upon  flight.  There  was  still  on  foot,  in  the 
mountains,  a  body  of  royalists  of  the  Hamilton  par- 
ty,  under  General  Middleton.  Through  the  medi- 
um of  Frazer,  a  physician,  a  correspondence  was 
opened  between  the  prince  and  the  general.  The 
result  was,  that  Charles  made  up  his  mind  to  join 
the  royalists  in  the  Highlands.  He  contrived  to 
escape  secretly  from  Perth  ;  but,  after  having  pro. 
ceeded  forty  miles  he  was  overtaken  by  Montgooi. 
M 


148  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

aery  with  a  troop  of  horse,  and  was  induced  to  re- 
turn.  In  Scottish  history  this  elopement  of  the 
monarch  bears  the  name  of  "  the  start." 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  such  a  flagrant 
proof  of  the  king's  hatred  of  them  would  have  drawn 
upon  him  additional  indignities  from  the  covenant- 
ers. Such,  however,  was  not  the  case.  There 
were  serious  reasons  why  the  king  should  not  be 
driven  to  extremity.  A  majority  of  the  nobles  be- 
gan to  be  disaffected  ;  and  in  the  army,  many  of 
the  officers  and  soldiers  attributing  their  recent  de- 
feat to  the  rash  counsels  of  the  ministers,  recruits 
to  fill  up  the  gap  caused  by  that  defeat  came  in  so 
tardily,  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  widen  the 
circle  from  which  they  were  to  be  drawn.  A  com- 
promise was  therefore  effected.  It  was  resolved  by 
the  Scottish  Parliament  that,  on  publicly  manifest- 
ing their  repentance,  the  Hamiltonians  and  others, 
who  had  been  declared  incapable  of  holding  office, 
should  be  permitted  to  serve  their  country.  While 
a  majority  of  the  covenanters  were  thus  yielding  to 
circumstances,  Charles  was  acting  a  part  which  was 
equally  distasteful  to  him.  He  affected  an  extraor. 
dinary  regard  for  Argyle,  and  went  so  for  as  to 
throw  out  hints  of  an  intention  to  marry  one  of  the 
daughters  of  that  nobleman.  In  supposing  tl»at  by 
such  conduct  he  could  delude  Argyle  or  gain  re. 
spect  from  him,  he  must  have  had  a  much  meaner 
opinion  of  the  earl's  understanding  than  he  was 
warranted  in  entertaining.  Nor  was  he  more  suc- 
cessful in  producing  unanimity  among  his  subjects. 
The  resolution  of  the  Parliament  was  solemnly  pro- 
tested against  by  multitudes,  several  civil  and  mili- 
tary functionaries  desisted  from  serving  in  conse- 


CllAivULS    11.  149 

quence  of  it,  and  five  of  the  western  counties  mani- 
fested the  most  inveterate  hostility  to  a  measure 
which  they  regarded  as  an  infamous  and  wicked 
falling  off  from  the  righteous  cause.  Scotland  was 
thus  divided  between  the  factions  of  the  resolution, 
ists  arid  the  protesters. 

While  affairs  were  in  this  unsatisfactory  state, 
the  coronation  of  Charles  took  place.  He  was 
crowned  at  Scone  with  considerable  pomp,  on  the 
1st  of  January,  1651 :  the  diadem  was  placed  on 
his  head  by  Argyle.  A  sermon  was  preached  be- 
fore him  on  this  occasion  by  a  Mr.  Douglas,  who 
assured  the  king,  among  other  things  of  the  same 
kind,  that  "  if  he  did  not  continue  steadfast  to  the 
ends  of  the  covenant  (vhich  he  had  then  again 
sworn  in  the  most  solemn  manner  to  observe),  the 
controversy  was  not  ended  between  God  and  his 
family." 

From  listening  to  such  rugged  censors  Charles 
passed  to  the  more  grateful  occupation  of  levying 
forces,  for  the  defence  of  his  newly-received  crown. 
It  was  principally  from  the  north  that  the  levies  were 
drawn,  and  the  recruiting  was  carried  on  there 
with  success.  This  is  admitted  to  have  been  the 
fact  by  Cromwell  himself.  "  They  have  chosen," 
says  he,  "  all  their  new  colonels,  being  the  most 
popular  and  beloved  men,  with  whom  we  hear  the 
people  rise  very  willingly ;  so  that  I  think  we  may 
certainly  conclude  they  will  have  a  numerous  army 
before  long."  At  this  moment  he  was  pondering, 
but  in  vain,  on  the  means  of  crossing  the  Forth 
and  checking  the  levies ;  nor  was  he  wholly  with- 
out  fears  of  a  Scots  incursion  into  England,  and  a 
royalist  outbreak  in  the  northern  counties. 


150  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

In  the  course  of  the  winter  and  spring,  an  arm; 
of  respectable  magnitude  was  once  more  set  on 
foot.     It  consisted  of  about  fifteen  thousanc  infan- 
try and  three  thousand  cavalry.     The  king  was 
its  nominal  leader,  having  under  him  Hamilton  and 
Lesley ;  but  the  latter  was  in  fact  the  commandei 
The  campaign  was  not  opened  till  a  late  period. 
The   republican   army  was  kept   inactive  by  the 
want  of  forage  and  supplies,  but  still  more  by  the 
want  of  its  general.     Cromwell  had  been  attacked 
by  a  severe  ftt  of  illness,  and  for  some  time  was  in 
great  danger.     Two  physicians,  doctors  Wright 
and  Bales,  were  sent  by  the  council  of  state  to  at- 
tend him,  and  he  slowly  recovered  ;  but  it  was  not 
till  the  btter  end  of  June  that  he  was  in  a  condi- 
tion to  resume  the  direction  of  his  forces.     Lesley, 
in  the  mean  while,  had  taken  up  a  strong  position 
at  the  Torwood,  in  front  of  Stirling,  and  on  the 
road  to  Falkirk,  and  had  improved  it  so  much  by 
art  as  to  render  any  attempt  upon  it   an  almost 
hopeless  enterprise.     Here  he  meant  to  make  his 
stand,  confining  himself  strictly  to  the  defensive, 
and  wearying  out  his  antagonist.     This  time  he 
had  not  to  fear  that  his  well-conceived  plans  would 
be  frustrated  by  the  folly  which  had  occasioned  his 
late  disaster;  and  he  might  hope  that  the  remem- 
brance of  their  forefathers'  prowess  on  the  field  of 
Bannock  burn — a  field  which  was  now  before  their 
eyes — would  rouse  up  every  latent  spark  of  cour- 
age  and  patriotism  in  the  breasts  of  his  soldiers. 
Cromwell  soon  found  that  he  had  a  difficult  task  to 
perform.     He  made  various  trials  to  bring  his  op- 
ponent   to   action,  none  of  which  succeeded ;    he 
••ould  ueitljer  provoke  nor  manoeuvre  Lesley  from 


CHARLES    II.  151 

his  post  at  the  Torwood.  Once  he  half  resolved 
to  venture  upon  an  attack ;  but,  on  second  thought, 
he  relinquished  a  scheme  which  at  best  was  fraught 
with  peril,  and,  if  he  failed,  might  be  fatal. 

The  pertinacity  with  which  the  Scottish  general 
adhered  to  his  Fabian  system,  and  his  unassailable 
position,  were  extremely  embarrassing  to  Crom- 
well. The  summer  was  wearing  away  without  his 
having  attained  a  single  object,  and  he  looked  for- 
ward  with  serious  uneasiness  to  a  winter  campaign, 
which  would  be  ruinous  to  his  troops,  and  heavily 
expensive  to  the  commonwealth.  He  candidly 
owns  that  he  knew  not  what  course  to  take.  "  We 
can  truly  say,"  declares  he,  "  we  were  gone  as  far 
as  we  could  in  our  counsel  and  action,  and  we  did 
say  one  to  the  other,  We  knew  not  what  to  do." 
Desperate  diseases  are  said  to  require  desperate 
remedies ;  and  so  Cromwell  seems  to  have  thought. 
The  plan  which  he  at  last  adopted  was  venturous 
even  to  rashness,  and  scarcely  offered  a  medium 
between  complete  success  and  signal  discomfiture, 
perhaps  destruction.  What  he  purposed  was  no- 
thing less  than  to  transport  the  great  body  of  his  for- 
ces to  the  north  of  the  Frith  of  Forth,  in  order  to 
cut  off  the  supplies  which  the  royal  army  received 
from  Fife  and  the  neighbouring  counties.  Famine 
would  then,  he  hoped,  expel  Lesley  from  a  camp 
which  set  arms  at  defiance.  To  carry  this  scheme 
into  execution,  he  must  divide  an  army  already  too 
weak,  and  convty  the  major  part  of  it  over  an  arm 
of  the  sea,  which  for  more  than  forty  miles  is  no- 
where less  than  nearly  two  miles  in  width,  and  in 
general  far  wider.  This  was  throwing  open  the 
south  of  Scotland,  and  something  more,  to  the  Scots ; 


152  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES 

committing  his  communications  to  the  mercy  of  the 
winds  and  waves  ;  and  bringing  his  army  into  jeop- 
ardy  should  a  retreat  become  needful.  Yet  even 
these  adverse  circumstances  he  resolved  to  brave, 
rather  than  encounter  the  toil  and  expense  which 
would  result  from  continued  inaction.  Besides,  if 
his  assertion  may  be  credited,  he  looked  upon  this 
measure  as  dictated  by  Heaven  itself;  and  conse- 
quently he  could  not,  without  impiety,  be  doubtful 
of  its  success.  In  using  such  presumptuous  lan- 
guage, was  he  a  deceiver  or  self-deceived  ? 

About  nine  miles  to  the  west  of  Edinburgh,  the 
Frith  of  Forth  is  suddenly  contracted  to  a  width  of 
less  than  two  miles  by  a  peninsula  which  protrudes 
from  the  coast  of  Fife.  Midway  between  Queens- 
ferry  and  North-ferry  is  the  small  rocky  island  of 
Inchgarvie,  on  which  was  a  fort,  with  sixteen  pieces 
of  cannon  and  a  Scottish  garrison.  The  commu. 
nication  between  Fife  and  the  Lothians  is  kept  up 
by  the  ferry  at  this  part  of  the  Frith,  and  it  wa& 
here  that  Cromwell  designed  to  pass  over  his  troops. 
To  call  off  the  attention  of  Lesley,  he  moved  in  the 
direction  of  Stirling,  as  far  as  the  Carron  water, 
and  made  a  semblance  of  intending  to  give  battle. 
Colonel  Overton,  in  the  mean  while,  with  fourteen 
hundred  foot  and  some  horse  and  dragoons,  effect- 
ed a  landing  on  the  North-ferry.  On  the  follow- 
ing morning  he  was  joined  by  Major-general  Lam- 
bert,  with  two  infantry  and  two  cavalry  regiments. 
Lambert  arrived  just  in  time  to  save  Overton's  de. 
tachment  from  being,  in  all  probability,  either  cap- 
tured or  driven  into  the  Forth.  A  Scots  division 
of  four  thousand  men,  led  by  Generals  Brown  and 
Holborne,  was  about  to  fall  upon  Overton.  The 


CHARLES    11.  153 

combined  republicans  now  became  the  assailants ; 
and,  after  an  obstinate  conflict,  the  Scots  were  ut- 
terly defeated,  with  the  loss  of  two  thousand  slain 
and  five  or  six  hundred  prisoners.  This  victory 
was  followed  by  the  surrender  of  the  Fort  of  Inch- 
garvie.  While  this  was  going  on,  Lesley  made  a 
movement  towards  Fife  by  the  Alloa  road ;  but, 
learning  that  Cromwell  was  preparing  to  take  ad- 
vantage  of  his  absence,  he  returned,  and  resumed 
his  position  at  the  Tor  wood. 

As  soon  as  Lesley  was  reseated  in  front  of  Stir- 
ling, Cromwell  hastened  to  pursue  his  operations  to 
the  north.  Leaving  four  regiments  of  horse  and  as 
many  of  foot  to  protect  Edinburgh,  he  marched 
rapidly  to  Queens- ferry,  where  he  passed  the  Forth 
with  the  remainder  of  his  army.  Without  losing  a 
moment  he  pushed  on  to  Perth,  there  being  nothing 
in  the  way  that  could  impede  his  progress.  Perth, 
which  commands  the  passes  into  the  northeastern 
counties  and  the  Highlands,  was  in  no  condition  to 
resist  an  enemy.  Its  old  walls  were  in  a  dilapida- 
ted state,  and  it  was  otherwise  unprovided  with 
adequate  means  of  defence.  It  had  doubtless  been 
considered  as  quite  safe  while  Lesley  held  his 
ground  on  the  Forth.  In  four-and-twenty  hours 
after  his  arrival  Cromwell  became  master  of  the 
town.  To  secure  his  conquest,  Cromwell  began 
the  erection  of  a  citadel,  but  the  completion  of  this 
work  he  was  soon  under  the  necessity  of  delegating 
to  other  hands.  When  the  tidings  reached  London 
of  his  having  advanced  to  Perth,  the  Parliament  re- 
solved  to  strengthen  its  military  force,  and  it  ac- 
cordingly authorized  the  Council  of  State  to  raise  a 
body  of  infantry,  to  the  number  of  four  thousand 


154  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

men,  exclusive  of  officers.  This  was  a  prudent  and 
well-timed  measure,  from  which  much  benefit  waa 
ultimately  derived. 

A  march  through  Strathallan  upon  Perth,  eithei 
to  give  battle  to  Cromwell,  or  to  watch  and  embar. 
rass  his  movements  ;  a  march  eastward  from  Stir- 
ling,  to  act  upon  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  line  of  op- 
erations ;  and  a  rapid  movement  upon  Edinburgh, 
to  disperse  the  scanty  republican  corps  which  had 
been  left  in  that  quarter,  were  all  within  the  choice  of 
Lesley.  Neither  of  them,  however,  was  adopted. 
Charles  had  resolved  to  stake  his  fortune  upon  one 
desperate  cast  of  the  die,  by  penetrating  into  Eng- 
land and  hurrying  forward  to  the  capital.  He  san- 
guinely  hoped  that,  during  his  progress,  his  parti- 
sans  in  the  northern  and  midland  counties  would 
throng  to  his  standard,  and  that  his  enemies  would 
be  disheartened  and  kept  down  by  the  republican 
army  being  too  distant  to  succour  them.  This  da- 
rmg  project  received  the  sanction  of  the  Scots  gen- 
erals  and  statesmen,  some  of  whom  were  eager  for 
fame  and  revenge,  while  others  wished  to  give  the 
enemy  "work  in  England  rather  than  consume 
their  countrymen  with  a  lingering  war,  and  make 
the  seat  of  it  in  Scotland."  Argyle  alone  dissent 
ed ;  he,  foreboding  disaster,  laboured  strenuously, 
but  ineffectually,  to  dissuade  Charles  from  his  pur- 
pose.  The  opposition  of  this  nobleman  was,  indeed, 
not  likely  to  prevail  with  a  monarch  who  hated  him. 
On  the  last  day  of  July  the  Scottish  army  broke  up 
from  the  Torwood,  and  began  its  route  to  the  bor- 
der, in  the  direction  of  Carlisle. 

Though  for  some  time  past  the  probability  of  a 
Scottish  irruption  into  England  had  often  entered 


CHARLES    II.  155 

the  thoughts  of  the  Commonwealth  rulers  and  gen- 
erals,  considerable  alarm  was  excited  by  that  proba- 
bility  being  converted  into  a  certainty.  Till  now 
such  an  event  had  been  looked  upon  as  fraught 
with  no  great  danger,  inasmuch  as  it  was  believed 
either  that  the  Scots  would  merely  make  a  diversion 
with  a  part  of  their  force,  which  might  be  easily  re- 
pelled, or  that,  if  a  regular  invasion  were  attempted, 
Cromwell  and  his  army  would  be  at  hand  to  con- 
front the  invaders,  and  perhaps  inflict  on  them  a 
heavier  blow  than  they  had  received  three  years  be- 
fore at  the  battle  of  Preston.  But  in  the  present 
case  circumstances  were  changed.  By  his  ventur- 
ous movement  to  Perth,  Cromwell  had  placed  him- 
self  at  such  a  distance  from  the  scene  of  action  that 
he  was  several  marches  in  the  rear  of  the  royal  ar- 
my ;  and,  as  the  Parliament  had  no  adequate  force 
collected  in  England,  irreparable  mischief  might 
be  done  before  he  could  bring  his  veterans  to  the 
rescue. 

Cromwell  himself  was  evidently  staggered  by  this 
sudden  manoeuvre  of  Charles.  In  his  despatch  to 
the  Parliament,  his  apprehensions  and  embarrass- 
ment  repeatedly  become  visible,  in  spite  of  his  ef- 
forts to  conceal  them  ;  and  he  writes  in  an  apolo- 
getical  tone,  which  shows  how  strong  an  impression 
he  supposed  to  have  been  made  upon  his  employers 
by  the  danger  which  threatened  them. 

**  I  do  apprehend,"  says  the  general,  "  that  if  he 
goes  for  England,  being  some  few  days'  march  be- 
fore us,  it  will  trouble  some  men's  thoughts,  and 
may  occasion  some  inconveniences  ;  of  which  I 
hope  we  are  as  duly  sensible,  and  have  been,  and  I 
trust  shall  be,  as  diligent  to  prevent  as  any.  And  in- 


156  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

deed  this  is  our  comfort,  that  in  simplicity  of  heart 
as  to  God  we  have  done  to  the  best  of  our  judg- 
ments ;  knowing  that  if  some  issue  were  not  put  to 
this  business  it  would  occasion  another  winter's  war, 
to  the  ruin  of  your  soldiery,  for  whom  the  Scots  are 
too  hard  in  respect  of  enduring  the  winter  difficul- 
ties  of  this  country,  and  been  an  endless  expense  of 
treasure  to  England  in  prosecuting  this  war. 

"  It  may  be  supposed  we  might  have  kept  the  en- 
emy  from  this  by  interposing  between  him  and  Eng- 
land,  which  truly  I  believe  we  might ;  but  to  re- 
move him  out  of  this  place  without  doing  what  we 
have  done,  unless  we  had  a  commanding  army  on 
both  sides  of  the  river  of  Forth,  is  not  clear  to  us  , 
or  how  to  answer  the  inconveniences  afore  mention- 
ed, we  understand  not.  We  pray,  therefore,  that, 
seeing  that  there  is  a  possibility  for  the  enemy  to 
put  you  to  some  trouble,  you  would  (with  the  same 
courage,  grounded  upon  a  confidence  in  God,  where- 
in you  have  been  supported  to  the  same  things  God 
hath  used  you  in  hitherto),  you  would  improve  the 
best  you  can  such  forces  as  you  have  in  readiness, 
or  as  may  on  the  sudden  be  gathered  together,  to 
give  the  enemy  some  check  until  we  shall  be  able  to 
reach  up  to  him,  which  we  trust  in  the  Lord  wo 
shall  do  our  utmost  endeavour  in.  And,  indeed,  wo 
have  this  comfortable  experiment  from  the  Lord, 
that  this  enemy  is  heart.smitten  by  God  ;  and, 
whenever  the  Lord  shall  bring  us  up  to  them,  we  be- 
lieve  the  Lord  will  make  the  desperateness  of  this 
counsel  of  theirs  to  appear,  and  the  folly  of  it  also. 
When  England  was  much  more  unsteady  than  now, 
and  when  a  much  more  considerable  army  of  theirs, 
unfoiled,  invaded  you,  and  we  had  but  a  weak  foree 


CHARLES    II.  157 

to  make  resistance  at  Preston,  upon  deliberate  ad- 
vice we  chose  rather  to  put  ourselves  between  their 
army  and  Scotland,  and  how  God  succeeded  that 
is  not  well  to  be  forgotten. 

"  This  is  not  out  of  choice  on  our  part,  but  by 
some  kind  of  necessity ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  will 
have  the  like  issue,  together  with  a  hopeful  end  of 
your  work ;  in  which  it  is  good  to  wait  upon  the 
Lord,  upon  the  earnest  of  former  experiences  and 
hope  of  his  presence,  which  only  is  the  life  of  our 
cause." 

But,  though  Cromwell  was  alarmed,  as  well  he 
might  be,  he  lost  not  a  jot  of  his  promptitude,  en. 
ergy,  and  presence  of  mind.  Leaving  Monk  with 
a  sufficient  force  to  carry  on  the  war  in  Scotland, 
he  instantly  bent  his  march  to  the  south,  and  reach- 
ed  Edinburgh  on  the  4th  of  August.  Major-gen- 
eral Harrison,  one  of  the  most  active  and  intelli- 
gent of  the  Commonwealth  officers,  who,  with  three 
thousand  horse  and  some  foot,  was  then  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Berwick,  was  directed  to  push  on  in 
an  oblique  direction,  for  the  purpose  of  gaining,  or 
getting  in  advance  of,  the  left  flank  of  the  royal 
army,  and  impeding  the  king's  movements  towards 
the  British  capital.  Major-general  Lambert,  with 
between  three  and  four  thousand  cavalry,  was  or- 
dered to  follow  in  the  first  instance  the  footsteps  of 
Charles,  to  retard  his  progress  through  the  nor- 
thern frontier  counties,  and  then  to  form  a  junction 
with  Harrison.  Cromwell  himself,  with  nine  regi- 
ments of  foot  and  the  rest  of  the  horse,  proceeded 
by  forced  marches  from  Leith  to  Newcastle.  At 
a  somewhat  later  period,  a  division,  under  Fleet- 
wood,  bent  its  course  from  the  south  to  unite  with 


158  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

Cromwell,  Lambert,  and  Harrison.  All  the  conv 
manders  rallied  round  them  the  militia  and  trained 
bands  on  their  way,  and  took  vigorous  measures 
to  prevent  the  resources  of  the  country  from  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

It  was  on  the  6th  of  August,  after  a  march  of 
six  days  from  the  Torwood,  that  Charles  set  foot 
on  the  soil  of  England.  He  was  immediately  pro- 
claimed king,  at  the  head  of  the  army,  amid  the 
roar  of  cannon  ;  and  the  ceremony  was  repeated 
on  the  following  day  at  Penrith.  "This  poor 
place,"  says  Lord  Lauderdale,  in  a  letter  to  Lord 
Balcarras,  "  has  given  us  a  day's  bread  and  cheese, 
which  is  our  first  supply  in  England."  From  his 
letter,  and  those  of  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  and  Lord 
Wentworth,  it  appears  that  at  this  moment  the 
king's  forces  amounted  to  about  fourteen  or  fifteen 
thousand  foot  and  six  thousand  horse ;  that  all  the 
rigid  covenanters  having  left  them,  the  army  was 
wholly  devoted  to  the  king ;  that  the  troops  were 
under  such  excellent  discipline  that  they  had  not  ta- 
ken the  worth  of  a  sixpence  since  their  arrival ;  and 
that  men  enough  might  be  procured  if  the  king  had 
but  arms  to  give  them.  At  Penrith,  the  son  of  Lord 
Howard  of  Eskrig  came  over  with  a  part  of  his 
troop  to  the  royal  army,  and  was  knighted  by  the 
king. 

Charles  halted  for  a  day  at  Penrith  to  rest  and 
refresh  his  men,  and  then  pushed  forward  by  Ken- 
dal  to  Lancaster.  To  accelerate  his  march  as  much 
as  possible,  he  mounted  as  many  of  his  infantry  as 
he  could  find  horses  for.  Again  he  halted  at  Ellel 
Moor,  four  miles  to  the  south  of  Lancaster,  and  then 
continued  his  course  through  Preston  and  Wigan 


CHARLES    II.  158 

to  Warrinjrton,  on  the  Mersey,  which  latter  place 
he  reached  on  the  16th  of  August. 

In  his  passage  through  Westmoreland  and  Lan- 
cashire, his  army  is  said  to  have  been  much  thinned 
by  desertion,  and  to  have  been  joined  by  a  veiy 
small  number  of  royalists.  It  must  be  remember- 
ed, however,  that  there  was  little  time  given  for  the 
friends  of  Charles  to  array  themselves  under  his 
standard,  his  resolution  to  invade  England  having 
been  suddenly  taken,  and  his  march  pursued  with 
considerable  rapidity.  At  Preston  he  was  met  by 
the  Earl  of  Derby,  who  had  landed  at  Wyerwater 
from  the  Isle  of  Man  with  three  hundred  men,  sixty 
of  whom  were  cavalry.  The  earl  took  his  leave 
of  Charles  at  Warrington,  and  returned  to  the  cen- 
tre of  Lancashire,  to  collect  and  organize  the  king's 
partisans  in  the  northwestern  counties.  In  a  few 
days  he  got  together  about  fifteen  hundred  men, 
and  might  have  become  formidable  to  the  republi- 
cans, had  not  his  career  been  cut  short  by  Colonel 
Robert  Lilburne,  who:  with  much  inferior  numbers, 
routed  and  utterly  dispersed  the  royalists  at  Pres- 
ton  before  the  close  of  the  month. 

While  Charles  was  speeding  through  Cumberland, 
Westmoreland,  and  Lancashire,  his  indefatigable 
opponents  were  pressing  forward  with  still  greater 
swiftness  to  frustrate  his  designs.  On  the  12th  of 
August  Cromwell  crossed  the  Tyne  at  Newburn, 
near  Newcastle,  and  encamped  at  Ryton.  He  was 
in  motion  again  on  the  14th ;  and  on  the  20th  he 
arrived  at  Doncaster,  a  march  of  about  a  hundred 
and  twelve  miles.  From  the  metropolis,  towards 
which  he  was  wending  his  course,  he  was  still  a 
hundred  and  sixty  miles  distant.  It  is  therefore  not 


160  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES 

wonderful  that  at  London  the  citizens  and  the  Par 
liament  felt  extreme  disquiet,  which  in  some  was 
heightened  into  absolute  terror,  and  that  many  be- 
gan to  despair  of  the  republican  cause.  Harrison 
and  Lambert,  meanwhile,  moved  with  so  much  ce- 
lerity that  they  got  the  start  of  Charles.  They  ef- 
fected their  junction  on  the  14th  in  the  neighbour 
hood  of  Preston,  whence  they  continued  their  rouu 
to  Warrington,  to  defend  the  passes  of  the  Mersey. 
Their  united  force  was  eight  thousand  horse,  a 
thousand  dragoons,  and  about  three  thousand  foot. 
The  two  generals  lost  no  time  in  endeavouring  to 
spoil  the  fords  between  Warrington  and  Manches- 
ter, and  taking  whatever  other  measures  might  con- 
tribute to  retard  the  march  of  the  royal  army. 

Harrison  and  Lambert  did  not,  however,  make  at 
Warrington  that  vigorous  defence  which  their  prep, 
arations  seemed  to  promise.  Though  they  had 
previously  resolved  to  accept  a  battle,  they  now 
deemed  it  prudent  to  decline  a  serious  engagement 
in  their  present  position.  The  reason  assigned  for 
this  change  was,  that  the  ground  was  unfavourable 
for  cavalry.  Nothing  more  than  a  slight  skirmish 
took  place  at  the  bridge,  which  the  republicans  had 
barricaded.  The  post  was  defended  no  longer  than 
was  necessary  to  give  the  generals  time  to  complete 
their  arrangements  for  effecting  a  retrograde  move- 
ment.  They  retired  by  the  Knutsford  road,  avow- 
edly with  the  intention  of  making  a  stand  on  Knuts- 
ford Moor,  though  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they 
had  any  such  purpose.  The  royal  army  crossed 
the  Mersey  impatient  for  action,  Charles  himself 
being  at  the  head  of  the  van,  which  consisted  of  his 
own  life-guards.  For  some  distance  the  royalists 


CHARLES    II.  161 

pressed  hard  upon  the  republican  rear ;  but  the  pur- 
suit  was  soon  discontinued,  and  the  republican  lead- 
ers accomplished  their  retreat  in  good  order,  and 
with  scarcely  any  loss. 

At  this  moment  Charles  was  but  a  hundred  and 
eighty-four  miles  from  London,  while  Cromwell, 
notwithstanding  his  eagerness  to  press  forward,  had 
not  yet  proceeded  farther  than  the  vicinity  of  the 
Tees,  two  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  the  metrop- 
olis. The  king  was  at  least  four  days  ahead,  and 
those  four  days,  rightly  employed,  might  have  given 
him  a  chance  for  the  crown.  Everything,  however, 
depended  upon  daring,  which  in  some  situations  is 
prudence.  But  the  counsels  of  Charles  had  begun 
to  be  "  sicklied  o'er  with  that  pale  cast  of  thought" 
which  is  destructive  to  "  enterprise  of  great  pith  and 
moment."  There  can,  I  think,  be  little  doubt,  that 
at  this  period,  if  not  earlier,  he  abandoned  the  plan 
of  inarching  to  London,  and  resolved  to  take  up  a 
position  behind  the  Severn.  In  Wales,  and  in  the 
counties  between  the  Mersey  and  the  Severn,  espe- 
cially  in  Worcestershire,  he  had  many  partisans, 
whom  he  probably  hoped  to  rally  round  his  stand- 
ard, so  as  to  enable  him  to  maintain  a  defensive 
war,  during  the  continuance  of  which  his  friends  in 
England  and  Scotland,  relieved  from  the  pressure 
of  the  republican  forces,  would  have  an  opportuni- 
ty of  rising  in  his  favour.  Under  certain  circum- 
stances this  new  scheme  might  have  been  feasible : 
under  those  which  actually  existed  it  proved  fatal. 

From  Newcastle  to  Warrington,  Harrison  and 
Fleetwood  had  moved  obliquely  in  a  southwestern 
direction,  to  be  in  advance  of  the  royal  forces ;  but 
they  now  desisted  from  their  close  watch  upon  the 

24— H 


162  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

king,  and  directed  their  march  from  the  west  to 
wards  the  southeast,  through  Congleton,  Leek 
Cheadle,  and  Abbots  Bromley,  to  the  confines  ol 
Staffordshire,  Derbyshire,  and  Warwickshire,  in 
order  to  put  themselves  in  communication  with  the 
main  army  under  CromweH.  Notwithstanding  this 
change  in  their  line  of  march,  they  still  preserved 
the  power  of  timely  interposing  between  the  king 
and  the  metropolis. 

While  the  Parliamentary  leaders  were  retirii  g 
by  the  Knutsford  road,  Charles  pursued  his  way  ;o 
Northwich,  and  thence  to  Stoke,  near  Nantwicn. 
where  he  halted  on  the  eighteenth.  "  Their  coun- 
cils seemed  very  unsteady,"  says  Harrison,  who  vas 
active  in  procuring  intelligence  of  all  the  royalist 
movements.  From  more  than  one  cause  the  king 
was,  in  truth,  labouring  under  serious  embarrass- 
ment. He  had  discovered  that  the  committee  of 
ministers,  or,  as  it  was  called,  the  presbytery  of  the 
army,  were  as  hostile  as  ever  to  the  cavaliers,  and 
would  accept  of  no  aid  except  from  subscribers  to 
the  covenant.  Major-general  Massey  was  then  in 
Lancashire,  soliciting  the  ministers  of  lhat  county 
to  exercise  their  influence  with  the  people  in  the 
king's  behalf;  he  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  them 
from  the  committee,  in  which  the  latter  passed  a 
sentence  of  proscription  upon  those  whom  they  de- 
nominated malignants.  Charles  now  wrote  to  Mas- 
sey,  desiring  that  he  would  burn  this  impolitic  mis- 
sive, and  hasten  back  to  the  royal  army. 

From  Nantwich  Charles  moved  forward  to  Blore 
Heath,  and  thence  to  Tong-Norton,  not  far  from 
Shifnal,  in  Shropshire.  From  Tong-Norton  he 
sent  a  summons  to  Colonel  Mackworth  to  surren- 


CHARLES    II.  163 

der  the  town  of  Shrewsbury.  The  possession  of 
this  place  would  have  been  highly  advantageous, 
and  he  was  led  to  believe  that  the  governor  was  not 
ill  disposed  towards  him.  Mackworth,  however, 
answered  his  summons  and  rejected  his  offers  of 
reward  in  a  decided  and  even  contemptuous  tone- 
Charles  therefore  continued  bis  march  to  Worces- 
ter,  at  which  city  he  resolved  to  make  a  stand.  In 
bis  progress  through  Worcestershire  the  king 
received  a  considerable  accession  of  partisans. 
"  They  have  persuaded  the  people,"  says  Fleet- 
wood,  "  that  there  is  no  such  man  alive  as  my  Lord- 
general  Cromwell,  and  that  we  have  no  army  left. 
Upon  this  account,  they  have  had  more  additions  of 
men  in  Worstershire  than  in  all  England  besides." 
It  was  on  the  22d  of  August  that  the  king,  at  the 
head  of  his  vanguard,  consisting  of  about  five  hun- 
dred horse,  appeared  before  Worcester.  The  city 
was  occupied  by  a  small  force  of  militia  and  cavalry, 
who  made  a  show  of  resistance,  to  give  time  for  the 
removal  of  the  magazine.  Their  retreat,  however, 
was  quickened  by  the  conduct  of  the  townspeople, 
who  generally  declared  for  the  king ;  some  of  the 
citizens  even  fired  out  of  the  windows  upon  the  re- 
publicans, while  the  latter  were  striving  to  make 
head  against  the  royal  army.  Finding  it  impossi- 
ble to  prolong  the  defence  of  the  place,  the  slender 
garrison  gave  up  the  contest,  and  effected  its  retreat 
to  Gloucester.  The  gates  were  thrown  open  by 
order  of  the  town-council,  and  Charles  made  his  en- 
trance  amid  the  triumphant  acclamations  of  his 
friends.  He  was  proclaimed  on  the  following  day, 
and  issued  i  manifesto,  calling  upon  the  people  to 
rally  round  him.  This  was  succeeded,  two  days 


f&4  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

afterward,  by  a  general  rendezvous  in  the  Pitch 
croft  of  those  who  came  forward  in  obedience  to  his 
call :  they  are  said  to  have  amounted  to  about  two 
thousand,  among  whom  were  several  persons  of 
rank  and  fortune.  Before  the  close  of  the  month 
the  king  was  also  joined  by  the  Earl  of  Derby,  with 
a  few  royalists  who  had  escaped  from  the  rout  at 
Preston.  The  strength  of  the  king's  army  was  va. 
riously  estimated  at  from  twelve  to  sixteen  thousand 
men,  the  last  of  which  is  perhaps  nearest  to  th& 
truth. 

Charles,  it  must  be  owned,  was  not  without  ra- 
tional grounds  for  concluding  that  he  might  main 
tain  himself  in  the  position  which  he  now  occupied. 
Worcester,  situated  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Severn, 
over  which  it  has  a  bridge,  connecting  it  with  the 
suburb  of  St.  John's,  was  a  walled  city,  and  its  capa- 
bility of  defence  had  already  been  manifested.  In 
1646  it  had  resisted  the  republican  forces  from 
March  till  July.  From  the  outset  of  the  war  it  had 
been  strongly  attached  to  the  royal  cause  :  it  was 
one  of  the  first  to  declare  for  the  late  monarch,  and 
the  last  to  submit  to  his  enemies.  In  its  rear  flows 
the  Severn,  a  navigable  river  nearly  a  hundred 
yards  wide,  on  which,  except  that  of  Worcester, 
there  was  then  no  bridge  between  Bewdley  and 
Upton,  the  former  fourteen  miles  above  the  city, 
and  the  latter  ten  below  it.  On  the  right  bank, 
little  more  than  two  miles  from  Worcester,  the 
River  Teme  forms,  at  nearly  a  right  angle,  a  June- 
tion  with  the  Severn,  and  covers  the  southern  ap- 
proach to  the  suburb.  The  nature  of  the  grrund 
on  both  sides  of  the  city  is  not  unfavourable  to  de- 
fensive operations.  Behind  the  hoe  of  the  Severn 


CHARLES    II.  165 

stretches  the  principality  of  Wales,  where  Charles 
had  many  zealous  partisans.  Independent  of  these 
circumstance''  to  induce  Charles  to  make  his  stand 
here,  he  was  probably  influenced  by  another  con. 
sidenition,  the  hope  of  also  obtaining  possession  of 
Gloucester,  where  Massey,  who  had  once  so  gallant- 
ly  defended  that  fortress,  was  supposed  to  have  con- 
siderable  influence.  From  the  confession  of  the  re- 
publicans themselves,  it  appears  that  the  safety  of 
Gloucester  was  at  one  moment  endangered. 

But,  whatever  might  be  the  natural  advantages  of 
the  position  which  the  king  held,  it  is  obvious  that, 
unless  they  were  promptly  and  skilfully  turned  to 
account,  they  must  be  of  little  avail.  To  repel  the 
powerful  army  which  was  advancing,  every  military 
resource  must  be  called  into  play.  With  an  army 
not  more  than  half  as  strong  as  that  of  his  antago. 
nist,  it  was  clearly  not  the  policy  of  Charles  to  risk 
everything  on  the  issue  of  an  immediate  battle, 
all  the  chances  of  which  were  so  fearfully  against 
him :  on  the  contrary,  prudence  dictated  to  guard 
with  sleepless  vigilance  the  line  of  the  Severn,  to 
strengthen  and  repair  the  old  works  of  Worcester, 
and  protect  by  fieldworks  all  the  defensible  points 
and  approaches  round  the  city  ;  in  short,  to  weaken 
*nd  tire  out  the  enemy  by  a  lingering  and  harass, 
ing  warfare,  and  thus  to  gain  time,  which  in  such 
cases  is  among  the  best  of  allies.  Opportunity  and 
hands  were  not  wanting  for  the  performance  of  the 
necessary  labour,  there  being  men  in  abundance, 
and  nt  republican  troops  having  come  up  till  six 
days  had  elapsed.  But,  says  a  royalist  officer  in 
his  narrative,  when  "  they  came  before  us  at  Wor- 
cester, the  city  was  neither  fortified  nor  provision. 


166  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ed."  Fleetwood  asserts,  indeed,  that,  three  days 
after  their  entrance  into  the  city,  the  leaders  of  the 
royal  army  "  were  different  and  uncertain  in  their 
councils"  as  to  what  should  be  done,  and  that  it 
was  only  in  compliance  with  the  earnest  entreatiea 
of  the  mayor,  sheriff*,  and  some  of  the  aldermen, 
that  they  were  prevailed  on  to  think  of  fortifying 
the  place  when  it  was  too  late  to  do  it  effectually. 
Beyond  putting  into  some  sort  of  repair  the  work 
which  was  called  Fort  Royal,  no  considerable  prog- 
ress  seems  to  have  been  made  in  defensive  meas- 
ures. 

The  formidable  opponent  of  Charles  was,  mean, 
while,  rapidly  approaching  him.  From  Doncaster, 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  he  reached  on  the  20th 
Cromwell,  proceeding  through  Nottingham,  Coven 
try,  Warwick,  and  Stratford-upon-Avon,  arrived  on 
the  28th  at  Evesham.  Here  his  junction  was  ef- 
fected with  the  corps  of  Lambert  and  Harrison,  and 
with  that  of  Fleetwood.  which  had  marched  from 
the  southern  counties  by  the  way  of  Banbury  and 
Shepstone.  On  the  following  day  the  whole  came 
.in  sight  of  Worcester,  and  Cromwell  fixed  his  head- 
quarters  at  Spetchley,  in  the  house  of  Judge  Berke- 
ly,  about  two  miles  to  the  southeast  of  the  city. 
On  the  31st  he  was  farther  re-enforced  by  three 
thousand  men  from  Suffolk  and  Essex,  under  Sir 
Thomas  Honiwood  and  Col.  Cooke.  His  strength 
now  amounted  to  at  least  thirty  thousand  men. 

Cromwell  had  not  been  many  hours  before  Wor- 
cester when  an  event  occurred  which  was  the  fore- 
runner,  and,  in  some  measure,  the  cau.se  of  a  fata) 
catastrophe.  The  highly  important  pass  of  Upton 
was  confidp/1  *r»  Major-general  Massey,  who  occu 


CHARLES    II.  167 

pied  it  with  five  hundred  horse.  Upton  is  seated  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  Severn,  and  is  approached  by 
a  bridge,  the  only  one  between  Worcester  and  Glou- 
cester. On  the  Upton  side,  the  bridge  was  com- 
manded by  a  church,  which  stood  at  the  termina- 
tion of  it.  It  might  be  supposed  that  nothing  would 
have  been  omitted  that  could  give  security  to  a  post 
of  so  much  importance.  This,  however,  was  not 
the  case  ;  and  it  is  astonishing  that  Massey,  a  sol- 
dier who  had  acquired  -eputation,  should  in  a  whole 
week  have  done  nothing  to  provide  against  attack, 
and  at  last  have  allowed  himself  to  be  taken  by  sur- 
prise. Without  "  any  design  or  expectation"  of 
being  able  to  do  more  than  reconnoitre,  Lambert, 
with  a  body  of  horse,  marched  towards  Upton  on 
the  28th,  while  Cromwell  was  taking  up  his  quar- 
ters at  Spetchley.  With  equal  surprise  and  pleas, 
ure  he  found  that  the  royalists  had  been  as  careless 
as  an  enemy  could  wish  them  to  be.  An  arch  of 
the  bridge  had  indeed  been  broken,  but  there  was 
a  piece  of  timber  left  across  it  which  afforded  a 
passage.  The  post  was  also  slenderly  and  negli- 
gently guarded.  Lambert,  who  had  approached 
with  only  a  few  men  to  reconnoitre,  instantly  saw 
his  advantage,  and  seized  upon  it.  Twenty  dis- 
mounted troopers  with  carbines  crept  over  the  piece 
of  timber,  and  took  possession  of  the  church.  Mas- 
sey was  at  length  awakened  to  his  danger,  and  made 
an  attempt  to  dislodge  the  republicans  ;  but  he  was 
too  late.  As  fast  as  his  troops  came  up,  Lambert 
dismounted  them  and  sent  them  over ;  and,  after  a 
short  contest,  Massey  was  wounded,  and  driven  in 
disorder  from  the  field.  Not  a  man  was  lost  by 
the  assailants.  The  victor  did  not  delay  a  moment 


168  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

in  sending  to  Fleetwood  for  a  re-enforcement  of  foot, 
and  before  the  day  was  spent  a  large  part  of  Fleet, 
wood's  division  was  established  at  Upton.  Expect, 
ing  that  an  effort  would  of  course  be  made  to  re- 
cover a  post  of  such  vital  importance,  Fleetwood 
prepared  to  make  an  obstinate  resistance  ;  but  he 
was  left  unmolested  by  the  royalist  generals,  though 
his  position,  ten  miles  from  the  main  army,  would 
have  been  hazardous,  had  it  been  promptly  anc, 
vigorously  attacked  by  a  superior  force. 

While  the  royal  army  remained  wholly  inactive 
on  the  side  of  Upton,  it  operated  with  little  more 
vigour,  and  no  success,  on  the  side  of  Worcester. 
An  incessant  fire  was  indeed  kept  up  from  the  city, 
but  with  far  more  of  noise  than  execution.  "  They 
shoot  all  day  excessively  at  our  horse  and  foot,'' 
says  a  republican  despatch,  "as  if  they  feared  nevei 
to  want  powder  or  bullets."  A  sally,  which  was 
attempted  on  the  night  of  Cromwell's  arrival,  was 
beaten  back  in  an  almost  bloodless  encounter,  there 
being  only  one  of  the  besiegers  wounded,  and  three 
of  the  assailants  slain.  On  the  following  night  it 
was  determined  by  a  council  of  war,  at  which 
Charles  presided,  that  a  second  and  more  formidable 
sortie  should  be  made.  The  object  of  this  was  to 
drive  the  republicans  from  a  house  about  a  mile 
south  of  the  city,  in  which  they  had  stationed  two 
hundred  men,  and  also  to  attack  a  part  of  theii 
camp.  For  this  purpose,  a  select  body  of  horse 
and  foot,  to  the  number  of  fifteen  hundred,  marched 
out  through  Silbury  gate.  This  second  effor*.  was 
as  bootless  as  the  first.  The  republicans  were  in- 
formed of  the  design  of  their  opponents,  and  did 
not  wait  for  the  onset.  When  the  royalists  were 


CHARLES    II.  169 

within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  post,  they  were 
met  by  the  enemy,  and  compelled  to  retire  into  the 
city,  with  the  loss  of  several  men,  among  whom 
was  Major  Knox.  He  was  slain  in  a  skirmish  with 
Colonel  Fairfax's  regiment.  "  Coming  very  boldly 
up,"  says  an  account  of  the  action,  "  and  leaping 
over  a  hedge,  he  rushed  upon  a  stand  of  pikes,  and 
so  lost  his  life  in  a  vapour."  This  sneering  de- 
scription is  less  creditable  to  its  unchivalric  writer 
than  it  is  to  the  gallant  officer  whose  fall  it  com- 
memorates. 

During  the  week  that  elapsed  between  his  com 
ing  before  Worcester  and  his  leading  the  republi- 
cans into  action,  Cromwell  was  busily  occupied  in 
making  arrangements  to  strike  a  decisive  blow.  A 
vigorous  cannonade  and  bombardment  were  kept 
up  against  the  beleaguered  city.  To  carry  into 
effect  the  plan  of  operations  which  he  had  formed, 
and  which  embraced  both  banks  of  the  river,  it  was 
necessary  for  him  to  construct,  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  place,  a  bridge  over  the  Severn  ;  and,  as  all  the 
boats  had  been  removed  by  the  royalists,  he  was 
obliged  to  have  a  sufficient  number  conveyed  on 
cars  from  Pershore,  Evesham,  and  other  towns 
upon  the  Avon.  Confident  of  victory,  he  likewise 
took  means  to  reap  all  its  advantages  ;  he  sent  Lil- 
burne,  with  a  thousand  horse,  to  secure  the  pass  at 
Bewdley,  and  despatched  orders  to  the  militia,  the 
trained  bands,  and  the  troops  in  garrison,  to  occupy 
positions  for  intercepting  the  retreat  of  the  routed 
enemy. 

The  third  of  September  was  the  day  chosen  by 
Cromwell  for  giving  battle :  it  was  the  anniversary 
of  the  victory  at  Dunbar.  We  may  believe  that, 


170  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

like  Napoleon,  Cromwell  thought  the  judicious 
choice  of  a  day  might  inspirit  his  troops  and  de- 
ject his  antagonists,  and  thus  tend  to  the  gaining 
of  another  triumph  ;  but  the  Parliament,  at  a  sub. 
sequent  period,  seems  to  have  feared  that  a  belief 
in  fortunate  days  might  be  generated,  and  therefore 
gravely  informed  the  people  that  the  conflict  took 
place  "  in  pursuance  of  former  councils,  the  execu- 
tion of  which  Providence  had  delayed  till  that  day, 
without  any  such  predetermination  on  their  part." 
In  such  language  there  is  at  least  as  much  vanity 
as  piety. 

It  was  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Severn,  which  the 
strange  abandonment  of  Upton  had  thrown  open  to 
him,  that  Cromwell  determined  to  assail  the  royal 
ists.  His  success  in  that  quarter  would  interdict 
all  retreat,  by  closing  against  them  the  roads  which 
lead  to  Salop,  Herefordshire,  and  Wales.  His 
great  numerical  superiority  allowed  him  to  venture 
upon  that  dividing  of  his  forces  which,  had  the 
scales  been  more  equally  balanced,  would  have 
been  an  impolitic  and  dangerous  measure.  A  con- 
siderable  portion  of  his  army  was  already  on  the 
right  bank,  and  Cromwell  now  ordered  a  bridge  of 
boats  to  be  thrown  over  the  Severn,  that  he  might 
render  the  whole  of  his  force  available  in  any  direc- 
tion.  The  spot  selected  for  the  bridge  was  about 
a  mile  south  of  the  city,  a  little  above  the  conflu- 
ence of  the  Teme  with  the  Severn. 

Early  in  the  morning,  the  troops  in  the  neigh, 
bourhood  of  Upton,  led  by  Fleetwood,  Dean,  In- 
goldsby,  Gott,  and  Gibbons,  began  their  march  to- 
wards the  Teme,  the  bridges  on  which  river  had 
all  been  destroyed  by  the  royalists.  The  repub. 


CHARLES    II.  171 

licans  did  not  reach  the  scene  of  action  till  between 
two  and  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  con. 
struction  of  the  bridge  over  the  Severn  had,  mean 
while,  been  going  on.  It  was  not  till  Fleetwood'a 
van  came  in  sight  of  the  city  that  an  alarm  of  the 
enemy's  approach  was  given,  when  orders  were  is- 
sued  to  put  in  motion  that  part  of  the  royal  army 
which  was  posted  in  the  suburbs  of  St.  John's. 
While  the  troops  of  St.  John's  were  getting  under 
arms,  Charles  himself  proceeded  towards  the  Teme, 
to  direct  Major-general  Montgomery  and  Colonel 
Keith  to  maintain  to  the  last  the  pass  at  Powyck, 
and  to  send  a  detachment  to  interrupt  the  forming 
of  the  bridge  over  the  Severn.  He  then  returned 
to  Worcester. 

The  second  and  most  important  of  these  orders 
was,  however,  of  no  effect ;  the  republicans  suc- 
ceeded in  the  difficult  operation  of  bridging  the 
Severn,  nor  does  it  appear  that  they  met  with  any 
serious  opposition  in  doing  so.  That  the  royalists 
should  have  suffered  such  a  measure  to  be  carried 
into  execution  while  they  were  yet  masters  of  the 
sight  bank,  and  when  it  would  seem  that  the  frail 
structure  might  have  been  shattered  by  merely 
setting  heavy  bodies  adrift  down  the  stream,  is  al- 
most imcomprehensible.  As  soon  as  the  bridge 
was  finished,  re-enforcements,  led  by  Cromwell  in 
person,  poured  in  upon  Fieetwood,  and  another 
bridge,  within  pistol-shot  of  the  principal  one,  was 
speedily  thrown  over  the  Teme,  between  Powyck 
and  the  Severn.  The  communication  between  the 
various  parts  of  the  republican  army  was  now  com- 
plete. 

Thfe  struggle  on  t*ie  Teme  had  commenced  be- 
O 


172  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

fore  the  arrival  of-  Cromwell.  The  royalists  had 
lined  all  the  hedges  from  Powyck  to  the  Severn 
with  musketeers,  and  they  maintained  their  ground 
against  Fleetwood  with  great  gallantry.  Every 
hedge  and  wall  was  obstinately  disputed.  The 
constantly  increasing  numbers  of  the  republicans, 
however,  and  the  enthusiasm  inspired  by  the  pres- 
ence of  Cromwell,  enabled  the  assailants  at  length 
to  drive  back  these  outposts  upon  the  main  body/ 
which  was  drawn  up  in  Wyck field,  beyond  Powyck 
bridge.  There  the  royal  army  made  a  resolute 
stand.  For  two  hours  the  battle  raged  without  in- 
termission, and  with  no  decided  advantage  on  either 
aide.  The  vigorous  exertions  of  Cromwell,  and  a 
determined  charge  of  his  cavalry  and  pikemen,. 
finally  turned  the  scale  against  the  royalists,  and 
compelled  them  to  begin  to  fall  back.  Still  they 
withdrew  in  tolerable  order,  fighting  "  from  hedge 
to  hedge"  as  they  receded.  But  their  retreat  was- 
quickened  into  a  rout  by  the  approach  of  another 
body  of  the  enemy,  which,  crossing  the  Teme  on 
the  Hereford  road,  had  turned  their  flank,  and  now 
came  into  action.  They  were  closely  pursued  and 
driven  over  the  bridge,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  vic- 
tors established  themselves ;  and  thus  all  egress 
from  Worcester,  on  the  western  side,  was  complete, 
ly  closed.  In  this  contest,  Keith  among  others  was 
taken  prisoner,  and  Montgomery  was  severely 
wounded. 

On  the  right  bank  of  the  Severn  all  was  now  ir- 
recoverably lost.  In  this  conjuncture  Charles  de- 
termined upon  taking  a  step,  which  is  the  only  one 
on  the  royal  side  throughout  the  whole  conflict  that 
wears  a  military  aspect,  or  which  afforded  any 


CHARLES    II.  173 

chance  of  turning  the  fortune  of  the  day.  Calcu- 
lating that  the  republican  array  on  the  east  of  the 
river  must  be  much  weakened  by  the  large  de- 
tachments made  from  it,  and  that  the  enemy  would 
not  have  time  to  repass  the  Severn,  he  resolved  to 
make  an  abrupt  and  impetuous  attack  with  the 
whole  of  his  forces  upon  that  part  of  Cromwell's 
army  which  was  stationed  before  Worcester.  At 
this  critical  moment,  could  the  bridge  have  been 
destroyed  or  seriously  injured,  there  is  no  saying 
what  might  have  been  the  result.  Perhaps,  too, 
the  movement  decided  upon  by  Charles  would  have 
had  a  better  prospect  of  success,  had  it  been  at- 
tempted before  the  royalists  were  completely  over- 
thrown on  the  western  bank,  and  while  the  troops 
led  by  Cromwell  were  still  indispensable  to  achieve 
the  victory  in  that  quarter.  The  sudden  calling 
away  of  Cromwell  in  the  midst  of  the  battle  would 
at  least  have  suspended  the  progress  of  Fleetwood, 
or  his  remaining  would  have  tended  to  discourage 
that  part  of  the  republican  army  which  was  con- 
tending against  the  king. 

The  afternoon  was  far  advanced  when  Charles 
"  poured  forth  at  the  several  gates  of  the  city  all 
his  horse  and  foot"  upon  the  enemy's  position  in 
front  of  Worcester.*  The  main  attack  was  made 
from  Sidbury  gate,  and  was  led  by  the  king,  ac- 
companied by  the  Dukes  of  Hamilton  and  Bucking, 
nam,  Lord  Grandison,  Sir  Alexander  Forbes,  and 

*  The  battle  is  generally  represented  as  having  raged  on  both 
•ides  of  the  river  during  the  whole  of  the  day.  It  seems  clear, 
however,  from  the  despatches  of  Cromwell,  and  the  statement 
in  the  Act  for  a  Thanksgiving,  that  this  representation  is  erro- 
neous, and  that  the  two  conflicts  were  not  simultaneous,  bat 
•Decessive. 


174  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

many  other  of  the  English  and  Scottish  nobility 
It  was  soon  found  that  the  hope  of  having  to  con- 
tend  with  only  a  minor  portion  of  the  hostile  army 
was  fallacious.  The  watchful  Cromwell  had  dis- 
covered or  divined  the  manoeuvre  of  his  royal  an- 
tagonist, had  repassed  the  Severn  with  a  re-en- 
forcement, and  was  now  prepared  to  meet  the  com- 
ing attack.  The  royalists,  nevertheless,  advanced 
with  determined  spirit.  A  sanguinary  contest  en- 
sued, which  was  maintained  by  them  for  nearly 
three  hours.  So  resolutely  did  they  charge  at  the 
outset,  that  the  republicans  recoiled  before  them. 
To  follow  up  or  even  retain  their  advantage  was 
beyond  their  power.  Their  valour  was  baffled  by 
the  fatal  facility  which  Cromwell  possessed  of 
bringing  up  fresh  troops  from  the  western  bank  of 
the  river.  Yet,  even  when  their  ammunition  was 
expended,  they  continued  the  fight  with  the  butt- 
ends  of  their  muskets.  Numbers,  seconded  by 
skill,  at  last  prevailed,  and  the  weary  and  overborne 
royalists  began  to  give  way.  The  horse  were  the 
first  to  fly,  and  their  example  was  soon  followed  by 
the  foot.  Cromwell  did  not  allow  time  for  his  an- 
tagonist to  rally  ;  his  victorious  soldiers  pressed  on 
so  furiously  at  the  heels  of  their  flying  foes,  that 
they  drove  them  through  Sidbury  gate,  and  entered 
the  city  along  with  them.  In  their  hot  pursuit  they 
left  Fort  Royal  behind  them,  which  was  held  by 
fifteen  hundred  men.  The  commanding  officer  waa 
now  summoned  by  Cromwell,  but  he  refused  to 
surrender.  His  means  of  defence,  however,  ap- 
pear not  to  have  been  equal  to  his  courage.  The 
fortress  was  directly  carried  by  storm,  the  garrison 
put  o  the  sword,  and  a  violent  cannonade  opened 


CHARLES    II.  175 

upon  the  city  from  the  guns  of  the  captured 
place. 

In  Worcester,  meanwhile,  all  was  confusion  and 
dismay.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  king  rode  up  and 
down  among  the  panic-stricken  Scotch  horse  and 
foot,  urging  them  by  every  consideration  of  honour, 
loyalty,  and  self-preservation  to  rally  and  make  a 
stand.  Finding  them  deaf  to  all  his  arguments 
and  entreaties,  he  despairingly  exclaimed,  "  Shoot 
me  dead  on  the  spot  rather  than  let  me  live  to  see 
the  sad  consequences  of  this  day  !" 

In  various  parts  of  the  town,  bands  of  royalists, 
principally  English,  still  struggled  to  hold  their 
ground ;  not  with  the  hope  of  victory  (for  that  hope 
was  dead),  but  to  gain  time  for  retiring  in  better 
order.  By  the  gallantry  of  one  of  these  bands,  at 
the  head  of  which  were  the  Earl  of  Cleveland,  Sir 
James  Hamilton,  Colonels  Wogan  and  Carlos,  and 
other  brave  men,  the  escape  of  Charles  was  greatly 
facilitated.  A  desperate  charge  which  they  made 
upon  the  republicans  in  the  High-street  checked 
his  pursuers,  and  enabled  him  to  mingle  with  the 
crowd  of  horsemen  that  were  flying  through  St. 
Martin's  Gate  ;  yet  so  closely  was  he  tracked,  that 
he  is  said  to  have  quitted  a  house  by  the  back  door 
while  his  enemies  were  entering  by  the  front.  The 
last  feeble  effort  of  the  royalists  was  made  at  the 
town-hall,  where  several  of  them  fell  and  many 
were  taken  prisoners.  At  nightfall  three  thou- 
sand of  the  vanquished  were  lying  lifeless  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  thrice  that  number  were  pris- 
oners. 

When  Charles  found  that  there  was  no  chance 
»f  rallying  a  sufficient  force  to  atte  npt  a  regular 


176  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

retreat,  he  began  to  deliberate  on  the  best  mode  of 
providing  for  his  own  safety.  Deeming  it  impos- 
sible to  make  his  way  back  to  Scotland,  and  per- 
haps hiving  no  very  strong  desire  to  revisit  that 
country,  his  first  impulse  was  to  proceed  rapidly 
to  London,  which  city  he  hoped  to  reach  as  early 
as,  if  not  before,  the  news  of  his  defeat.  But  this 
scheme  he  could  not  carry  into  effect,  for  he  was 
entangled  and  hurried  on  in  a  northern  direction 
by  the  throng  of  fugitives.  "  We  had  such  a  num- 
ber of  beaten  men  with  us  of  the  horse,"  says  the 
king  in  his  narrative,  "  that  I  strove  as  soon  as  ever 
it  was  dark  to  get  from  them ;  and  though  I  could 
not  get  them  to  stand  by  me  against  the  enemy,  I 
could  not  get  rid  of  them,  now  I  had  a  mind  to  it." 

At  length,  with  about  sixty  gentlemen  and  offi- 
cers, among  whom  were  the  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
the  Earls  of  Derby  and  Lauderdale,  and  Lord  Wil- 
mot,  the  king  contrived  to  slip  out  of  the  main 
north  road,  "  letting  all  the  beaten  men  go  along 
it,"  and  directing  his  course  to  the  right  hand; 
"  not  knowing  very  well  which  way  to  go,"  says 
he, "  for  it  was  then  too  late  for  us  to  get  to  Lon- 
don  on  horseback,  riding  then  directly  for  it ;  nor 
could  we  do  it,  because  there  were  yet  many  people 
of  quality  with  us  that  I  could  not  get  rid  of." 

Before  they  had  gone  many  miles,  they  ran  into 
a  peril  of  which  at  the  time  they  were  unconscious. 
They  took  their  way  through  a  town  "  short  of  Wol- 
verhampton,"  which  probably  was  Stourbridge. 
It  was  at  that  moment  occupied  by  a  troop  of  the 
Parliamentary  cavalry.  Fortunately  for  them,  the 
officer  in  command,  strangely  forgetting  his  duty, 
had  negl  scted  to  post  any  guards,  so  that,  favoured 


CHARLES    II.  177 

by  the  night,  they  passed  through  undiscovered. 
It  waa  not  till  afterward  that  they  learned  the  dan- 
ger  to  which  they  had  been  exposed.  A  march  of 
twenty-five  miles  brought  them  at  daybreak  to 
White  Ladies,  near  Tonge  Castle,  situated  between 
Shiffnal,  in  Shropshire,  and  the  western  border  of 
Staffordshire.  White  Ladies  was  a  private  abode, 
the  inhabitants  of  which  had  been  described  to 
Charles  by  Mr.  Gifford,  one  of  his  Salopian  parti, 
sans,  as  being  "  honest  people."  The  character 
M'as  hardly  deserved.  There  the  king  and  his  fol- 
lowers procured  some  bread  and  cheese,  which 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  refreshment  they  had 
tasted  since  their  overthrow  at  Worcester. 

While  they  were  making  this  humble  repast,  a 
countryman  brought  intelligence  that  about  three 
thousand  of  the  royalist  horse,  with  General  Les- 
ley and  some  other  officers,  were  hard  by  upon 
Tonge  Heath,  but  all  in  utter  disorder.  On  hear, 
ing  these  tidings,  the  officers,  with  the  exception 
of  Lord  Wilmot,  strongly  pressed  the  king  to  join 
this  body  of  troops,  and  endeavour  to  effect  a  re- 
treat  into  Scotland.  Charles,  however,  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to  follow  their  advice.  He  was  of 
opinion  that  the  country  on  their  line  of  march 
would  everywhere  rise  to  intercept  and  hunt  them 
down  ;  and  he  felt  no  confidence  in  the  prowess  or 
devoted  loyalty  of  his  routed  bands :  "  Men  who 
had  deserted  him  when  they  were  in  good  order, 
would  not,"  he  thought,  "  stand  to  him  when  they 
had  been  beaten."  He  therefore  resolved  to  dis- 
guise himself,  and  proceed  on  foot  to  ihe  metropo- 
lis.  Lord  Wilmot,  who  meant  to  take  the  same 
road  on  horseback  ("  in  regard,  I  think,"  says 

24—12 


178  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

Charles, "  of  his  being  too  big  to  go  on  foot"),  was 
the  only  person  whom  he  made  acquainted  with  his 
resolution.  In  truth,  all  the  rest  of  his  train  re. 
quested  him  to  conceal  from  them  his  intentions, 
"  because  they  knew  not  what  they  might  be  forced 
to  confess."  Though  they  had  unanimously  deter- 
mined to  join  Lesley,  they  had  evidently  but  little 
expectation  of  eluding  their  pursuers. 

The  misfortune  which  they  anticipated  was  not 
slow  in  arriving.  What  Charles  had  foreseen  ac- 
tually took  place.  "  We  had  no  guides  (says  one 
of  the  royalist  officers),  so  we  often  lost  our  way, 
yet  reached  Newport  by  the  next  morning,  thirty 
miles  on  this  side  of  Worcester,  and  there  thought 
to  have  refreshed  ourselves  and  marched  for  Scot- 
land.  But  our  enemies  flew  faster  than  we,  and 
there  wanted  not  considerable  forces  in  every  place 
to  front  us ;  and  we  were  so  closely  pursued  in  the 
day  by  the  army  and  garrison  forces,  and  in  the 
night  by  the  country,  that  from  the  time  we  came 
out  of  Worcester  till  Friday  in  the  evening  that  I 
was  taken  prisoner,  seven  miles  from  Preston,  I 
nor  my  horse  never  rested.  In  the  day  we  often 
faced  the  enemy,  and  beat  their  little  parties  back 
to  their  main  body ;  but  still  those  of  us  whose 
horses  were  tired  or  shot  were  lost,  unless  they 
could  run  as  fast  as  we  rode.  In  the  night  we 
kept  close  together  ;  yet  some  fell  asleep  on  their 
horses,  or,  if  their  horses  stayed  behind,  we  might. 
hear  by  their  cries  what  the  bloody  country  people 
were  doing  with  them." 

Charles,  meanwhile,  was  beginning  to  carry  his 
purpose  into  effect.  It  was  at  White  Ladies  that 
he  assumed  his  disguise,  and  it  was  one  of  the  mart 


CHARGES    II.  179 

un-kinglike  that  can  well  be  imagined.  His  haii 
was  cut  short  to  his  ears,  and  his  head  was  cov- 
ered by  a  battered  and  greasy  steeple-crowned  hat 
with  turned  up  brims,  and  no  lining  or  band.  Ilia 
shirt  was  coarse,  and  patched  in  various  parts. 
His  jerkin,  of  green  cloth,  had  been  on  hard  ser 
vice  till  it  was  quite  napless,  and  even  rubbed  al 
most  white  in  some  places.  It  was  kept  in  coun- 
tenance by  an  old  leathern  doublet,  and  equally  old 
gray  cloth  breeches.  On  his  legs,  next  to  his  skin, 
he  had  a  pair  of  white  flannel  stockings,  that  had 
formerly  been  his  boot  stockings,  and  from  which 
the  tops  were  now  cut  off,  to  prevent  detection. 
Over  them  was  another  pair,  of  green  yarn,  with- 
out feet,  and  plentifully  darned  at  the  knees.  His 
heavy  shoes  were  slashed,  that  he  might  walk  with 
less  pain  ;  an  advantage  which  was  perhaps  coun. 
terbalanced  by  the  readiness  with  which  mud  and 
gravel  found  an  entrance  into  them.  His  hands 
were  stained  to  conceal  their  natural  whiteness, 
and  in  one  of  them  he  carried  a  long,  crooked 
ihornstick.  As  soon  as  he  was  thus  equipped  he 
"  flung  his  clothes  into  a  privy-house,  that  no  one 
might  see  that  anybody  had  been  stripping  them- 
selves." 

When  Charles  had  completed  his  metamorpho- 
sis he  sent  for  a  countryman  named  Richard  Pen- 
drell,  for  whose  fidelity  Mr.  Gifibrd  had  pledged 
himself.  There  were  several  of  the  Pendrells, 
brothers,  all  of  them  Roman  Catholics,  and  all 
stanch  adherents  of  the  fugitive  sovereign.  Charlea 
had  changed  his  clothes  at  the  house  of  a  Prot- 
estant  rather  than  at  one  of  their  houses,  be- 
cause he  meant  to  make  a  prolonged  use  of  their 


180  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

services,  and  consequently  wished  to  avoid  bring, 
ing  suspicion  upon  them.  One  reason  for  his  seek- 
ing refuge  among  Catholics  was,  that  he  was 
aware  of  their  having  hiding-holes  for  their  priests, 
which  he  thought  might  serve  to  conceal  himself 
in  case  of  need. 

Unlike  the  Pendrells.  the  man  at  whose  house  he 
disguised  himself  was  not  proof  against  the  strong 
temptation  of  gold.  "  He  came  to  one  of  them 
about  two  days  after,  asking  where  I  was,"  says 
the  king ;  "  told  him  he  might  get  a  thousand 
pounds  if  they  would  tell,  because  there  was  that 
sum  laid  upon  my  head ;  but  this  Pendrell  was  so 
honest,  although  he  knew  at  the  time  where  I  was, 
he  bid  him  have  a  care  what  he  did,  for  that  I 
being  got  out  of  all  reach,  if  they  should  now  dis- 
cover I  had  ever  been  there,  they  would  get  no- 
thing but  hanging  for  their  pains." 

It  was  well  for  Charles,  therefore,  that  he  quitted 
White  Ladies  as  soon  as  he  was  attired  in  his  rus- 
tic garb.  Richard  Pendrell  conducted  him  to  a 
neighbouring  wood,  near  the  verge  of  which,  not 
far  from  the  highway,  Charles  took  his  station  to 
watch  whether  any  pursuit  was  made.  He  had 
not  been  long  there  before  a  republican  troop  of 
horse  passed  by.  This  was  the  only  alarm  which 
occurred.  The  rain,  which  fell  all  day,  was  a  for- 
tunate  circumstance,  as  it  deterred  the  hostile 
scouring  parties  from  penetrating  into  the  wood. 
Here  Charles  remained  from  early  in  the  morning 
till  dark,  without  meat  or  drink,  having  had  nothing 
since  his  hasty  meal  of  bread  and  cheese.  In  the 
course  of  his  conversation  with  Pendrell  about 
going  to  London,  he  found  that  he  knew  none  of 


CHARLES     II.  181 

the  gen '.le men  on  the  road  .0  the  capital.  This, 
however,  was  of  no  consequence,  as,  oil  second 
thought,  the  king  had  changed  his  plan,  and  re- 
solved to  go  over  the  Severn  into  Wales,  where  he 
had  numerous  friends,  and  whence  he  could  pro- 
cure a  passage  into  France. 

In  pursuance  of  this  new  scheme,  they  set  out 
after  dark  to  journey  on  foot  towards  the  Severn, 
which  river  Charles  designed  to  cross  at  a  ferry  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Madely,  between  Bridgenorth 
and  Shrewsbury.  It  was  about  midnight  when 
they  came  near  a  water-mill,  where  they  heard 
some  people  talking.  Upon  this  Pendrell  caution- 
ed him  to  keep  silence  if  any  question  were  asked, 
as  his  not  speaking  in  the  accent  of  the  country 
would  betray  them.  "  As  we  came  near  to  the 
mill,"  says  the  king, "  we  could  see  the  miller,  as  I 
believe,  sitting  at  the  mill-door,  he  being  in  white 
clothes.  It  being  a  very  dark  night,  he  called  out, 
*  Who  goes  there  V  and  Richard  Pendrell  answer- 
ed, 'Neighbours  going  home,'  or  some  such  like 
words.  Whereupon  the  miller  cried  out,  '  If  you 
be  neighbours,  stand,  or  else  I'll  knock  you  down.' 
On  this,  believing  there  was  company  in  the  house, 
the  fellow  bid  me  follow  him  close,  and  ran  to  a  gate 
that  went  up  a  dirty  lane,  up  a  hill,  and  opened  the 
gate.  The  miller  cried  out,  '  Rogues !  Rogues !' 
and  thereupon  some  men  came  out  of  the  mill  af- 
ter us,  who  I  believe  were  soldiers.  So  we  fell  a 
running,  both  of  us,  up  the  lane,  as  long  as  we  could 
run,  it  being  very  deep  and  very  dirty,  till  at  last  I 
bid  him  leap  over  a  hedge  and  lie  still,  to  hear  if 
anybody  followed  us,  which  we  did,  and  continued 
lying  down  upon  the  ground  about  half  an  hour. 


182  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

when,  hearing  nobody  come,  we  continued  our  way 
ovei  to  the  village  upon  the  Severn.** 

Charles  was  now  informed  by  Pendrell  that 
there  lived  in  the  town  a  loyal  gentleman,  Woolfe 
by  name,  who  could  give  him  a  safe  lodging  during 
the  daytime,  as  his  house  contained  hiding-holes 
for  priests.  Fearing  that  this  person  might  decline 
to  harbour  so  dangerous  a  guest  as  he  was,  the  king 
despatched  Pendrell  to  inquire  whether  he  would 
afford  shelter  to  a  man  of  quality,  who  dared  not 
travel  except  at  night.  When  Pendrell  stated  that 
it  was  one  of  those  who  had  escaped  from  Wor- 
cester, Woolfe  replied  that  he  would  not  risk  his 
neck  for  any  one  unless  it  were  the  king  himself. 
Pendrell  had  been  ordered  not  to  mention  the  name 
of  the  person  who  sought  a  refuge ;  but  the  speech 
he  had  just  heard  induced  him,  rather  hazardously, 
to  disclose  the  secret.  Luckily,  Woolfe  was  a 
stanch  royalist;  and  he  unhesitatingly  declared, 
that  he  would  gladly  venture  all  he  had  in  the  world 
to  secure  his  majesty.  It  was  not,  however,  with- 
out much  misgiving,  and  only  because  the  dreaded 
daylight  was  at  hand,  that  Charles  resolved  to  ac- 
cept the  proffered  service. 

The  information  which  Charles  received  from 
Woolfe  was  discouraging.  There  were  at  that 
moment  two  companies  of  militia  in  the  town,  the 
ferry  was  guarded,  and  every  one  who  passed  over 
was  strictly  examined.  To  conceal  him  in  the 
house  was  impossible ;  for  the  hiding-holes  had 
been  discovered,  and,  consequently,  in  case  of  sus- 
picion arising,  they  would  instantly  be  searched. 
The  only  place  where  they  would  have  a  chance 
of  being  undetected  was  behind  the  hay  and  straw 


CHARLES    II.  183 

in  his  barn.  Thither,  after  having  eaten  some 
cold  meat,  they  accordingly  repaired,  and  there 
they  remained  during  the  whole  of  the  day.  In 
the  dusk  they  were  visited  by  Woolfe  and  his  son, 
who  brought  them  some  victuals.  The  latter  was 
just  come  back  from  Shrewsbury,  where  he  had 
been  a  prisoner.  By  both  father  and  son  the  king 
was  strongly  dissuaded  from  endeavouring  to  pro- 
ceed towards  Wales ;  the  Severn  being  so  jealous, 
ly  watched  at  every  point  where  it  could  be  cross- 
ed,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  elude  the  vigi- 
lance of  the  republicans.  The  result  was,  that 
Charles  relinquished  his  intention  of  advancing  in 
that  quarter,  and  resumed  his  design  of  journeying 
to  London.  This  change  rendered  it  necessary 
for  him  and  his  guide  to  retrace  their  steps,  as  well 
for  the  purpose  of  making  arrangements  as  to 
learn  the  motions  of  Lord  Wilmot.  "  So  we  set 
out  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,"  says  the  king,  "  but  us 
we  came  by  the  mill  again,  we  had  no  mind  to  be 
questioned  a  second  time  there,  and  therefore,  ask- 
ing Richard  Pendrell  whether  he  could  swim  or  no, 
and  how  deep  the  river  was,  he  told  me  it  was  a 
scurvy  river,  not  easy  to  be  passed  in  all  places, 
and  that  he  could  not  swim.  So  I  told  him  that, 
the  river  being  but  a  little  one,  I  would  undertake 
to  help  him  over ;  upon  which  we  went  across  some 
closes  to  the  river  side,  and  entering  the  river  first 
to  see  whether  I  myself  could  go  over,  I  found  it  was 
but  a  little  above  my  middle,  and  thereupon,  taking 
Richard  Pendrell  by  the  hand,  I  helped  him  over. " 
Pendrell  conducted  the  king  to  a  lone  house, 
called  Boscobel,  which  was  situated  close  to  a  wood 
of  the  same  name,  nor  far  from  White  Ladies,  and 


184  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

inhabited  by  one  of  his  brothers.  The  owner  in- 
formed  Charles  that  he  had  taken  Lord  Wilmot  to 
the  house  of  Mr.  Whitgrave,  a  Catholic  loyalist, 
near  Wolverhampton,  where  that  nobleman  would 
be  safe.  Charles  learned,  also,  that  there  was  at 
Boscobel  a  royalist  major,  named  Carlos,  one  of 
the  fugitives  from  Worcester.  As  he  knew  that 
this  officer  was  trustworthy,  he  sent  for  him  to  con- 
suit  with  him  as  to  what  was  best  to  be  done  on 
the  following  day.  Carlos  was  of  opinion  that  it 
would  be  equally  dangerous  to  remain  within  doors 
or  to  go  into  the  wood,  the  chances  being  that  both 
places  would  be  thoroughly  searched.  This  was 
startling  news  to  the  king,  but  he  was  soon  reliev- 
ed.  With  that  quickness  of  eye  and  readiness  of 
resource  which  a  soldier  ought  always  to  possess, 
Carlos  had  already  discovered  an  excellent  position. 
On  an  open  spot,  from  whence  all  that  approached 
could  be  seen  at  some  distance,  stood  a  large  oak. 
The  tree  had  been  lopped  about  three  years  before, 
and  had,  in  consequence,  grown  so  thick  and  bushy, 
that  the  mass  of  foliage  was  impervious  to  the  sight 
of  a  passer-by,  though  a  person  shrouded  in  U 
could  see  external  objects.  Carlos  proposed  thul 
they  should  ensconce  themselves  in  this  tree,  and 
the  king  assented  to  the  scheme. 

Having  provided  themselves  with  some  bread 
and  cheese  and  small  beer,  the  king  and  Major 
Carlos  took  their  station  early  in  the  tree,  and  there 
they  remained  till  night.  It  was  lucky  they  had 
not  sought  refuge  in  the  wood ;  as  from  their  look- 
out  they  could  perceive  soldiers  searching  the  thick- 
est  parts  of  it,  and  now  and  then  peeping  out  to  see 
if  any  suspicious-looking  individuals  were  visible 


CHARLES   II.  185 

in  the  neighbourhood.  While  the  kinj  was  in  the 
tree,  one  of  the  Pendrells  went  to  Mosely  Hall,  the 
mansion  of  Mr.  Whitgrave,  about  four  miles  to  the 
north  of  Wolverhampton,  to  inquire  for  Lord  Wil- 
mot.  He  brought  back  word  that  his  lordship  was 
still  there,  and  wished  his  majesty  to  join  him,  as 
there  was  a  very  secure  hiding-hole  in  the  house. 
At  nightfall,  therefore,  the  king,  accompanied  by 
Richard  Pendrell,  took  his  way  to  Mosely  Hall, 
where  he  met  with  a  warm  reception.  From 
thence  he  despatched  Lord  Wilmot  to  Bentley  Hall, 
the  seat  of  Colonel  Lane,  between  Walsall  and 
Wolverhampton.  to  consult  with  the  colonel  as  to 
the  means  of  reaching  London.  A  feasible  scheme 
for  the  king's  escape  out  of  the  country  was  pro- 
posed  by  Colonel  Lane.  He  had  a  cousin,  the  wife 
of  a  Mr.  Norton,  who  lived  in  Somersetshire,  two 
or  three  miles  beyond  Bristol.  His  plan  was,  that 
his  sister  should  pay  a  visit  to  their  cousin,  and 
take  his  majesty  with  her  in  the  disguise  of  a  ser- 
vant. At  Bristol  he  might  readily,  it  was  thought, 
Snd  a  vessel  to  convey  him  from  England. 

By  this  project,  which  was  analogous  to  his  own 
tbrmer  design  of  obtaining  a  passage  to  France 
from  Wales,  Charles  avoided  the  risk  of  visiting 
London.  He  adopted  it,  and  the  next  night  he 
went  to  Bentley  Hall.  His  feet  were  by  this  time 
become  so  sore  from  heavy  shoes  and  long  walk- 
ing,  that  he  was  obliged  to  ride  to  Colonel  Lane's. 
There  he  made  a  change  for  the  better  in  his  dress, 
by  putting  on  "  a  kind  of  gray  cloth  suit,"  fit  for 
his  new  character  of  a  serving-man.  On  the  fol. 
lowing  morning,  the  king  on  horseback,  with  Miss 
Lane  behind  him,  a  married  sister  of  hers  and  her 


186  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

husband,  and  Mr.  Lascelles,  a  cousin  of  the  colo. 
nel,  set  forward  on  their  journey.  "  But,"  saya 
the  king,  "  we  had  not  gone  two  hours  on  our  way 
before  the  mare  I  rode  on  cast  a  shoe,  so  we  were 
forced  to  ride  to  get  another  shoe  at  a  scattering 
village ;  and,  as  I  was  holding  my  horse's  foot,  I 
asked  the  smith,  *  What  news  ?'  He  told  me  there 
was  no  news  that  he  knew  of,  since  that  good  news 
of  beating  those  rogues  the  Scots.  I  asked  him 
were  there  none  of  the  English  taken  that  joined 
with  the  Scots.  He  answered  that  he  did  not 
hear  that  that  rogue  Charles  Stuart  was  taken,  but 
some  of  the  others  were  taken,  though  not  Charles 
Stuart.  I  told  him  that,  if  that  rogue  was  taken,  he 
deserved  to  be  hanged  more  than  all  the  rest,  for 
bringing  in  the  Scots.  Upon  which  he  said  I  spoke 
like  an  honest  man,  and  so  we  parted." 

At  Stratford-on-Avon  the  party  was  to  divide, 
Windsor  being  the  destination  of  Miss  Lane's  sis- 
ter  and  brother-in-law.  About  a  mile  before  they 
came  to  the  town,  a  circumstance  occurred  which 
might  have  placed  the  king  in  jeopardy.  They 
perceived  a  troop  of  cavalry  at  a  short  distance  in 
front  of  them ;  the  men  had  dismounted,  and  the 
horses  were  grazing  by  the  roadside.  On  seeing 
the  troopers,  the  brother-in-law  declared  that  he 
would  not  pass  by  them;  he  had,  he  said,  been 
once  or  twice  beaten  by  the  Parliamentary  soldiers, 
and  he  would  not  risk  being  treated  so  again. 
Aware  of  the  construction  that  might  be  put  upon 
their  sudden  retrograde  movement,  Charles  whis- 
pered to  Miss  Lane  that  it  would  probably  bring 
the  troopers  after  them,  and  entreated  l>er  to  pre- 
vent it.  But  m  entreaty  could  prevail  upon  the 


CHARLES    II.  18? 

timid  gentleman  to  run  the  chance  of  being  cudg- 
elled. They  went  round,  therefore,  to  enter  by  an. 
other  road,  and  in  doing  so  came  full  upon  the 
troopers,  who  had  continued  their  march  to  the 
same  place.  Either  their  flight  had  not  been  no- 
ticed, or  it  had  not  raised  the  suspicion  of  the  offi- 
cer in  command,  or  he  was  less  vigilant  than  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  for  they  passed  on  unquestioned. 

Leaving  the  brother-in-law  and  his  wife  at  Strat- 
ford, the  rest  of  the  travellers  pursued  their  journey 
to  Marston,  between  Stratford  and  Evesham,  where 
they  passed  the  night  at  a  kinsman's  of  Colonel 
Lane.  On  the  following  night  they  slept  at  Ciren- 
cester,  and  next  day  they  arrived  in  safety  at  Mr. 
Norton's,  beyond  Bristol.  The  moment  that  Miss 
Lane  entered  the  house  of  her  relative  she  sent  for 
the  butler,  and  desired  that  he  would  take  care  of 
William  Jackson,  her  attendant,  who  had  lately  been 
ill  of  an  ague,  and  was  yet  weak  and  far  from  being 
recovered.  The  pale  face  of  Charles,  on  whom 
fatigue,  anxiety,  and  scanty  food  had  produced  their 
natural  effect,  gave  the  colour  of  truth  to  what  she 
said.  Pope,  the  butler,  was  a  good-natured  and 
loyal  fellow,  who,  when  Charles  was  a  boy,  had 
been  servant  to  the  prince's  groom  of  the  bed- 
chamber,  and  had  afterward  been  a  trooper  in  the 
late  king's  army.  He  treated  the  new  guest  kind- 
ly, and  kept  him,  as  being  an  invalid,  apart  from 
the  domestics.  He  was  not,  however,  intrusted 
with  the  secret  of  the  royal  fugitive. 

"  The  next  morning,  as  we  rose  pretty  early," 

says  the  king, "  and  I  had  a  pretty  good  stomach,  I 

went  to  the  buttery  hatch  to  get  my  breakfast* 

where  I  found  Pope  and  two  or  three  other  men  in 

P 


188  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

the  room,  and  we  all  fell  to,  eating  bread  and  but- 
ter, to  which  he  gave  us  very  good  ale  and  sack ; 
and,  as  I  was  sitting  there,  there  was  one  that  look' 
ed  like  a  country  fellow  sat  just  by  me,  who,  talk- 
ing,  gave  such  a  particular  account  of  the  battle  of 
Worcester,  that  I  concluded  he  must  be  one  of 
Cromwell's  soldiers.  I  asked  him  how  he  came 
to  give  so  good  an  account  of  that  battle,  and  he 
told  me  he  was  in  the  king's  regiment,  by  which  I 
thought  he  meant  one  Colonel  King's  regiment ; 
but,  questioning  him  farther,  I  perceived  that  he 
had  been  in  my  regiment  of  guards,  in  Major 
Broughton's  company,  that  was  my  major  in  the 
battle.  I  asked  him  what  kind  of  a  man  I  was,  to 
which  he  answered  by  describing  exactly  both  my 
clothes  and  horse ;  and,  looking  upon  me,  he  told 
me  that  the  king  was  at  least  three  fingers  taller 
than  1.  Upon  which  I  made  what  haste  I  could 
out  of  the  buttery,  for  fear  he  should  indeed  know 
me;  as  being  more  afraid  when  I  knew  he  was 
one  of  our  own  soldiers,  than  when  I  took  him  for 
one  of  the  enemy's." 

Pope  quitted  the  buttery  along  with  the  monarch. 
On  their  entering  the  hall,  Mrs.  Norton  was  pass- 
ing by,  and  Charles,  faithful  to  his  assumed  charac- 
ter, took  off  his  hat,  and  stood  with  it  in  his  hand. 
As  he  was  taking  it  off,  he  observed  Pope  looking 
earnestly  in  his  face.  No  suspicion,  however,  was 
excited  in  his  mind  by  this  circumstance.  But,  in 
about  half  an  hour,  Lascelles  entered  his  bedroom, 
in  evident  perturbation,  and  told  him  that,  in  spite 
of  all  assurances  to  the  contrary,  Pope  maintained 
that  the  pretended  William  Jackson  was  the  king. 
"  Is  he  an  honest  man  ?"  said  Charles,  who  instant- 


CHARLES    II.  189 

{y  made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  most  prudent  course 
of  action.  Lascelles  replied  that  Pope  had  always 
been  on  their  side,  and  that  he  dared  trust  him  with 
his  life.  This  was  enough  for  Charles,  and  he  or- 
dered him  to  be  sent  for  immediately. 

The  recognition  of  the  king  by  Pope  proved  to 
be  a  fortunate  occurrence.  It  seems  certain  that, 
had  it  not  taken  place,  Charles  would  have  been 
exposed  to  great  danger.  After  thanking  his  maj- 
esty for  his  favourable  opinion,  and  pledging  him- 
self to  his  service,  Pope  requested  to  know  what 
were  his  plans,  and  warned  him  that,  though  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Norton  were  good  people,  there  were  one 
or  two  in  the  house  who  were  thorough  rogues. 
The  king  told  him  that  he  meant  to  get  a  ship  at 
Bristol,  and  desired  him  to  go  there  that  very  day 
to  learn  whether  there  was  one  about  to  sail  for 
France  or  Spain.  He  also  informed  him  that  he 
expected  Lord  Wilmot  to  arrive  at  Mr.  Norton's 
before  the  day  was  out.  Pope  said,  in  reply,  that 
it  was  lucky  he  had  happened  to  discover  his  majes- 
ty, for  that  much  mischief  might  have  been  caused 
by  Lord  Wilmot  coming  there  openly,  as  there 
were  several  people  in  the  house  by  whom  he  was 
well  known.  His  first  care,  therefore,  was  to  go  to 
meet  his  lordship,  and  lodge  him  at  a  neighbouring 
alehouse  till  the  darkness  allowed  him  to  be  secret- 
ly introduced  into  the  royal  chamber.  Fie  then 
went  to  Bristol,  but  could  hear  of  no  vessel  bound 
for  France  or  Spain  that  would  put  to  sea  in  less 
than  a  month  or  five  weeks. 

To  remain  so  long  a  time  in  this  quarter  would 
have  been  hazardous  for  the  king.  He  therefore 
consulted  with  Lord  Wilmot  and  Pope  as  to  the 


190  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

*tep  which  must  be  taken.  Pope  had  the  merit  of 
suggesting  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  monarch.  He 
stated  that  Colonel  Francis  Wyndham,  a  tried  royal- 
ist,  resided  at  the  little  village  of  Trent,  which  lies 
between  Yeovil  and  Sherborne,  about  two  miles  to 
the  north  of  those  towns.  "  Being  my  old  ac- 
quaintance, and  a  very  honest  man,"  says  the  king, 
"  I  resolved  to  get  to  his  house ;  but  the  night  be- 
fore we  were  to  go  away,  we  had  a  misfortune  that 
might  have  done  us  some  prejudice  ;  for  Mrs.  Nor- 
ton  was  suddenly  taken  very  ill,  so  that  we  could 
not  tell  how  in  the  world  to  find  an  excuse  for  Miss 
Lane  to  leave  her  cousin  in  that  condition;  and 
indeed  it  was  not  safe  to  stay  any  longer  there, 
where  there  was  so  great  a  resort  of  idle  and  dis- 
affected people.  At  length,  consulting  with  Mr. 
Lascelles,  I  thought  the  best  way  would  be  to  coun- 
terfeit a  letter  from  her  father's  house,  old  Mr. 
Lane's,  to  tell  her  that  her  father  was  extremely 
ill,  and  commanded  her  to  come  away  immediate- 
ly, for  fear  she  should  not  find  him  alive  ;  which 
letter  Pope  delivered  so  well  while  they  were  all  at 
supper,  and  Miss  Lane  playing  her  part  so  dexter- 
ously, that  all  believed  Mr.  Lane  to  be  in  great 
danger,  and  gave  his  daughter  the  excuse  to  go 
away  with  me  the  next  morning  early." 

The  travellers  passed  the  night  at  Castle  Carey, 
and  arrived  at  Colonel  Wynd  ham's  on  the  follow- 
ing evening.  Having  lodged  Charles  in  safety, 
Miss  Lane  and  Mr.  Lascelles  returned  to  their 
homes  in  Staffordshire,  The  king  was  joined  at 
Trent  by  Lord  Wilmot,  "  whom,"  says  he,  "  I  still 
took  care  not  to  keep  with  me,  but  sent  him  a  little 
before,  or  led  him  to  come  after  me."  It  is  probable 


CHARLES    11.  191 

that  Charles  was  induced  to  act  thus  by  the  fear  of 
being  discovered  through  the  indiscretion  of  his 
lordship,  whom  he  could  never  persuade  to  put  on 
any  disguise,  Wilmot  always  objecting  that  he 
should  look  frightfully  in  it. 

A  conference  was  speedily  held  between  Wilmot 
and  Wyndham  as  to  the  means  of  procuring  a  ves- 
sel for  the  king,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  Wynd- 
ham  visited  Giles  Strangways,  a  brother  royalist, 
to  learn  whether  he  had  any  naval  acquaintance  at 
the  western  ports.  Strangways  had  no  connexion 
of  the  kind,  and  dared  not  venture  on  the  coast  to 
make  inquiries;  but  he  exhorted  Wyndham,  who 
was  less  closely  watched,  to  seek  for  a  ship  him- 
self, and  he  generously  sent  by  him  three  hundred 
broad  pieces  for  his  majesty's  use.  This  was  a 
welcome  supply  to  Charles,  who  had  only  a  few 
shillings  in  his  pocket,  he  having  deemed  it  impru- 
dent to  carry  a  large  sum  about  him,  which,  if  he 
chanced  to  be  stopped  and  searched,  would  tally 
but  badly  with  his  mean  attire. 

At  length  a  fair  prospect  seemed  to  open  that  the 
wanderings  of  Charles  would  be  brought  to  a  favour- 
able  close.  At  Lyme,  Wyndham  found  a  merchant 
whom  he  could  trust  with  the  secret,  and  who  hired 
a  vessel  to  convey  the  king  to  France.  On  the 
day  appointed  by  the  merchant,  Charles,  in  his  dis. 
guise,  with  Mrs.  Judith  Coningsby,  a  cousin  of 
Wyndham's,  behind  him,  Lord  Wilmot,  Wyndham 
himself,  and  one  of  his  servants,  named  Peter,  pro- 
ceeded to  Lyme.  There  they  were  directed  by 
the  merchant  to  go  on  to  a  village  near  a  creek, 
at  a  short  distance  from  Lyme,  where  the  passen- 
ger was  to  be  taken  on  board.  The  wind  was  fair, 


192  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

and  they  sat  up  all  night,  anxiously  awaiting  the 
vessel,  but  she  never  came.  In  the  morning,  Lord 
Wilmot  and  Peter  were  despatched  to  discover  the 
cause  of  the  disappointment,  and  to  ascertain 
whether  the  bark  might  be  expected  at  night.  In 
the  mean  while,  Wyndham,  Miss  Coningsby,  and 
Charles  went  on  to  Bridport,  where  Wilmot  was 
to  rejoin  them. 

At  Bridport  they  were  in  imminent  danger  of 
falling  into  the  lion's  mouth.  "Just  as  we  came 
into  the  town,"  says  the  king,  "  I  could  see  the 
streets  full  of  red  coats  (Cromwell's  soldiers),  be- 
ing a  regiment  of  Colonel  Haynes's,  one  thousand 
five  hundred  men,  going  to  embark  to  take  Jersey ; 
at  which  Frank  Wyndham  was  very  much  troub- 
led, and  asked  me  what  I  would  do.  I  told  him 
we  must  go  impudently  into  the  best  inn  in  the 
town,  and  take  a  chamber  there,  as  the  only  thing 
V)  be  done  ;  because  we  should  otherwise  miss  my 
Lord  Wilmot  in  case  we  went  away  anywhere 
else,  and  that  would  be  very  inconvenient  both  to 
him  and  me.  So  we  rode  directly  into  the  best 
inn  of  the  place,  and  found  the  yard  full  of  soldiers. 
I  alighted,  and  taking  the  horses,  thought  it  the 
best  way  to  go  blundering  in  among  them,  and 
lead  them  through  the  middle  of  the  soldiers  into 
the  stable,  which  I  did,  and  they  were  very  angry 
with  me  for  my  rudeness." 

On  entering  the  stable,  Charles  found  that  he 
had  run  out  of  one  peril  into  a  greater.  Having 
called  the  ostler  to  assist  in  feeding  the  horses,  he 
was  greeted  by  him  with,  "  Sure,  sir,  I  know  your 
face."  Though  the  king  was  rather  startled,  he 
preserved  his  presence  of  mind.  He  adroitly  que%- 


CHARLES    II.  193 

tioned  the  man  as  to  where  he  came  from,  and 
learned  that  he  had  been  ostler  at  an  inn  at  Exeter, 
near  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Potter,  where  Charles  had 
resided  in  the  time  of  the  war.  The  king  then 
said  that  he  must  have  been  seen  at  Mr.  Potter's, 
whom  he  served  for  more  than  a  year.  " '  O  then,' 
says  the  fellow,  *  I  remember  you  a  boy  there  ;T 
and  with  that  was  put  off  from  asking  any  more 
about  it,  but  desired  we  might  drink  a  pot  of  ale 
together,  which  I  excused  by  saying  that  I  must 
go  wait  upon  my  master,  and  get  his  dinner  ready 
for  him,  but  told  him  my  master  was  going  to  Lon- 
don, and  would  return  about  three  weeks  hence, 
when  he  would  lay  there,  and  I  would  not  fail  to 
drink  a  pot  with  him." 

When  dinner  was  over,  they  rode  out  of  the 
town  to  join  Lord  Wilmot,  whom  they  had  seen 
pass  by,  and  who  had  also  seen  them.  He  over- 
took the  party,  and  informed  the  king  that  there 
had  been  some  mistake  between  him  and  the  mas. 
ter  of  the  ship,  but  that  he  believed  she  might  be 
ready  on  the  next  night.  Not  thinking  it  advisa- 
ble to  go  to  the  village  where  he  had  set  up,  Charles 
went  to  another,  about  four  miles  'inland.  From 
this  place  he  sent  Peter  to  Lyme,  to  inquire  whether 
the  ship  would  be  ready.  The  messenger  return- 
ed with  disagreeable  tidings.  The  master  of  the 
vessel,  though  not  in  the  secret,  had  become  appre- 
hensive of  peril  from  the  service  for  which  he  was 
hired,  and  had  positively  refused  to  perform  it. 
Charles  was  therefore  under  the  painful  necessity 
of  going  back  to  the  house  of  Colonel  Wyndham. 

The  village  of  Trent  was,  however,  no  safe 
abode  for  the  king.  He  had  already  had  sufficient 

24—13 


194  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

evidence  as  to  the  state  of  the  people's  feelings 
with  respect  to  him.  Hearing  the  bells  ring  one 
day,  and  seeing  a  mob  gathering  together  in  the 
churchyard,  he  sent  a  maid-servant  to  learn  the 
cause.  She  brought  word  back,  says  Charles, 
"  that  there  was  a  rogue,  a  trooper,  come  out  of 
Cromwell's  army,  that  was  telling  the  people  he 
had  killed  me,  and  that  that  was  my  buff  coat 
which  he  then  had  on.  Upon  which,  most  of  the 
village  being  fanatics,  they  were  ringing  the  bells, 
and  making  a  bonfire  for  joy  of  it." 

Such  being  the  disposition  of  the  villagers,  it  is 
not  wonderful  that,  after  having  been  a  fortnight 
among  them,  Charles  should  be  desirous  to  change 
his  quarters.  He  was,  besides,  "  known  to  very 
many,"  by  which,  however  well  intentioned  they 
might  be,  the  chance  of  his  being  detected  was 
materially  increased.  By  the  advice  of  Colonel 
Robert  Phillips,  who  resided  at  Salisbury,  the  king 
removed  to  that  neighbourhood.  He  was  taken  by 
the  colonel  to  Heale  House,  midway  between  Salis- 
bury and  Amesbury,  the  dwelling  of  a  widow  lady 
named  Hyde.  The  colonel  introduced  him  as  one 
of  his  friends,  but  the  widow  knew  him  at  first 
sight,  though  she  had  seen  him  only  once,  and  that 
at  a  distance  of  several  years.  At  supper  he  ob- 
served that  she  eyed  him  earnestly ;  but  this  gave 
him  no  uneasiness,  as  he  intended  to  confide  in 
ner.  Accordingly,  after  supper  he  made  himself 
known.  Assuring  him  that  she  had  an  excellent 
hiding-place,  she  added  that  she  did  not  think  it 
safe  to  trust  any  one  but  herself  and  her  sister 
with  the  knowledge  of  his  being  there.  She  ad- 
vised him,  therefore,  to  take  horse  in  the  morning 


CHARLES    II.  195 

as  though  he  were  going  for  good,  and  not  to  re- 
turn till  night,  when  she  would  contrive  that  all  the 
servants  should  be  out  of  the  house.  In  compli- 
ance with  this  advice,  Charles  and  Colonel  Phillips 
rode  to  Stonehenge,  spent  the  day  in  examining 
that  mysterious  structure,  and  came  back  to  Heale 
at  the  hour  which  had  been  agreed  upon.  Mrs. 
Hyde  introduced  the  king  into  his  retreat,  which  ho 
found  to  be  convenient  and  skilfully  contrived. 
There  Charles  remained  alone  for  four  or  five 
days,  his  food  being  brought  to  him  by  Mrs.  Hyde 
cr  her  sister. 

Ever  since  his  disappointment  at  Lyme,  his 
friends  had  been  diligently  endeavouring  to  procure 
for  him  the  means  of  crossing  the  Channel.  Rob- 
in  Phillips  (as  the  king  familiarly  called  him)  had 
even  succeeded  in  engaging  a  vessel  at  Southamp- 
ton ;  but,  at  the  moment  when  he  thought  that  ev- 
ery obstacle  was  removed,  she  was  pressed  by  the 
Parliament  to  carry  troops  to  Jersey.  Colonel 
Gunter,  his  friend,  who  lived  in  Sussex,  was  then 
commissioned  to  seek  for  a  ship  on  that  coast. 
He  was  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  one  at  Shore- 
ham.  At  this  time  Charles  also  received  from 
Lord  Southampton  an  offer  of  his  services  in  aid- 
ing an  escape.  This  offer  was  declined,  the  king 
not  wishing  to  endanger  his  lordship  when  there 
was  no  absolute  necessity  for  his  so  doing. 

At  two  in  the  morning,  accompanied  by  Colonel 
Phillips,  Charles  quitted  Heale  House  to  begin  his 
journey  to  Sussex.  When  he  had  travelled  about 
fourteen  miles  he  was  met  by  Colonel  Gunter  and 
Lord  Wilrnot.  The  party  slept  that  night  at 
Hambledon,  beyond  Bishops  Waltham,  at  the  house 


196  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

of  Mr.  Symonds,  a  brother-in-law  of  Colonel  Gun. 
ter.  Charles  was  still  in  his  gray  cloth  suit  as  a 
domestic,  and  Symonds  had  not  been  intrusted  with 
the  secret.  "  The  master  of  the  house  was  a  very 
honest  poor  man,"  says  the  king,  "  who,  while  we 
were  at  supper,  came  (he  having  all  the  day  been 
playing  the  good  fellow  at  an  alehouse  in  the  town), 
and,  taking  a  stool,  sat  down  with  us.  His  broth- 
«r-in-law,  Colonel  Gunter,  talking  very  sullenly 
concerning  Cromwell  and  all  his  party,  he  went 
and  whispered  his  brother-in-law  in  the  ear,  and 
asked  whether  I  was  not  some  round-headed  rogue's 
son,  for  I  looked  very  suspiciously.  Upon  which, 
Coloner  Gunter  answering  for  me  that  he  might 
trust  his  life  in  my  hands,  he  came  and  took  me  by 
the  hand,  and,  drinking  a  good  glass  of  beer  to  me, 
called  me  brother  roundhead." 

They  began  their  journey  at  daybreak,  and  met 
with  nothing  worthy  of  notice  till  they  arrived  at 
Arundel  Hill,  where  they  came  "full  butt"  upon 
the  governor,  Captain  Morley,  who  was  hunting. 
They,  however,  passed  unmolested.  When  the 
king  was  told  with  whom  they  had  fallen  in,  he 
laughingly  replied,  "I  did  not  like  his  starched 
mustaches."  At  Houghton  they  stopped  at  an  ale- 
house to  get  some  bread  and  drink  ;  and,  as  Colo, 
nel  Gunter  had  taken  the  wise  precaution  of  pock- 
eting a  couple  of  neats'  tongues  at  Hambledon,  they 
broke  their  fast  very  comfortably.  "The  neats' 
tongues,"  says  the  colonel,  "  stood  us  in  good  stead, 
and  were  heartily  eaten."  At  Bramber  an  inci- 
dent occurred  which  seemed  to  threaten  them  with 
shipwreck  in  sight  of  port.  "  We  found,"  says  Gun- 
ter, "  the  streets  full  of  soldiers,  on  both  sides  the 


CHARLES    II.  197 

houses ;  whoe  unluckily  and  unknown  .o  mee  were 
come  thither  the  night  before  to  guard ;  but,  luckily, 
(or,  rather,  by  a  very  special  Providence)  were  just 
then  come  from  their  guard  at  Bramber  Bridge 
into  the  towne  for  refreshment.  We  came  upon 
them  unawares,  and  were  scene  before  we  suspect- 
ed anything.  My  lord  Wilmot  was  ready  to  turne 
back,  when  I  stept  in  and  said,  '  If  we  doe,  we  are 
undone.  Let  us  go  on  boldly,  and  we  shall  not  be 
suspected.'  '  He  saith  well,'  said  the  king.  I  went 
before,  hee  followed,  and  soe  passed  through,  with- 
out any  hindrance. '  It  was  then  between  three  and 
fower  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoone.  We  went  on, 
but  had  not  gone  farre  but  a  new  terror  pursued  us ; 
the  same  soldiers  riding  after  us  as  fast  as  they 
could.  Whereupon  the  king  gave  me  a  hem ;  I 
slacked  my  pase  till  they  were  come  uppe  to  me, 
and  by  that  tyme  the  soldiers  were  come,  whoe 
rudely  passed  by  us  (being  in  a  narrow  lane),  soe 
that  we  could  hardly  keepe  our  saddles  for  them, 
but  passed  by  without  any  further  hurt,  being  some 
thirty  or  forty  in  number."  Charles  preserved  his 
composure,  but  Lord  Wilmot  was  thoroughly  dis- 
concerted by  this  meeting.  The  proximity  of  the 
soldiers  so  alarmed  him  that  he  refused  to  stop  at 
the  neighbouring  village  of  Beeding,  where  Colonel 
Gunter  wished  them  to  remain  at  a  friend's  house, 
while  he  himself  went  forward  to  Brighthelmstone 
to  ascertain  whether  all  was  safe. 

What  followed  till  the  king  embarked  we  shall 
give  in  his  own  words.  "  When  we  came  to  the 
inn  (the  George)  at  Brighthelmstone,  we  met  with 

one  Mr.  ,  the  merchant  who  had  hired  the 

vessel,  in  company  with  her  master  (Nicholas  Tat. 


198  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

tersal),  the  merchant  only  knowing  me,  having 
hired  her  only  to  carry  over  a  person  of  quality 
that  was  escaped  from  the  battle  of  Worcester, 
without  naming  anybody ;  and  as  we  were  all  to- 
gether,  viz.,  Robin  Phillips,  my  Lord  Wilmot,  the 
merchant,  and  the  master  of  the  vessel,  and  I,  I 
observed  that  the  master  of  the  vessel  looked  very 
hard  on  me.  As  soon  as  we  had  supped,  the  mas- 
ter  called  the  merchant  aside,  and  told  him  he  had 
not  dealt  fair  with  him ;  for,  though  he  had  given 
him  a  very  good  price  for  the  carrying  over  that 
gentleman,  yet  he  had  not  been  clear  with  him  ; 
'  for,'  says  he,  *  he  is  the  king,  as  I  very  well  know 
him  to  be  so ;'  upon  which,  the  merchant  denying 
it,  saying  that  he  was  mistaken,  the  master  answer- 
ed, *  I  know  him  very  well ;  for  he  took  my  ship, 
together  with  other  fishing  vessels,  at  Brighthelm- 
stone  in  1648,'  which  was  when  I  commanded 
the  king  my  father's  fleet,  and  I  very  kindly  let 
them  go  again.  '  But,'  says  he,  *  be  not  troubled 
at  it,  for  I  think  I  do  God  and  my  country  good 
service  in  preserving  the  king ;  and,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  I  will  venture  my  life  and  all  for  him,  and 
set  him  safe  on  shore,  if  I  can,  in  France.'  Upon 
which  the  merchant  came  and  told  me  what  had 
passed  between  them,  and  I  therefore  found  myself 
under  the  necessity  of  trusting  him  ;  but  I  took  no 
kind  of  notice  of  it  presently  to  him ;  but,  thinking 
it  not  convenient  to  let  him  go  home,  lest  he  should 
be  asking  advice  of  his  wife,  or  any  one  else,  we 
kept  him  at  the  inn,  and  sat  up  all  night  drinking 
beer  and  taking  tobacco  with  him. 

"  And  here  I  run  another  great  danger,  as  being 
confident  I  was  known  by  the  master  of  the  inn. 


CHARLES    II.  199 

whose  name  was  Smith.  For  as  I  was  standing, 
after  supper,  by  the  fireside,  leaning  my  hand  upon 
a  chair,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family  being  gone 
into  another  room,  the  master  of  the  house  came 
in  and  fell  a  talking  with  me ;  and  just  as  he  was 
looking  about  and  saw  there  was  nobody  in  the 
room,  he  upon  a  sudden  kissed  my  hand,  that  was 
upon  the  back  of  the  chair,  and  said  to  me,  « God 
bless  you,  wherever  you  go.  I  doubt  not  before  1 
die  but  to  be  a  lord,  and  my  wife  a  lady.'  So  I 
laughed,  and  went  away  into  the  next  room,  not 
desiring  then  any  farther  discourse  with  him,  there 
being  no  remedy  against  my  being  known  by  him, 
and  more  discourse  might  have  raised  suspicion. 
On  which  consideration  I  thought  it  best  to  trust 
him  on  that  matter,  and  he  proved  honest. 

"About  four  in  the  morning,  myself  and  the 
company  before  named,  and  also  Colonel  Gunter, 
went  towards  Shoreham,  taking  the  master  of  the 
ship  with  us  on  horseback,  behind  one  of  our  com. 
pany,  and  came  to  the  vessel's  side,  which  was  not 
above  sixty  tons.  But  it  being  low  water,  and  the 
vessel  lying  dry,  I  and  my  Lord  Wilmot  got  up  a 
ladder  into  her,  and  went  and  lay  down  in  the  little 
cabin  till  the  tide  came  to  fetch  us  off;  but  I  was 
no  sooner  got  into  the  ship  and  lain  down  upon 
the  bed,  but  the  master  came  in  to  me,  fell  down 
upon  his  knees  and  kissed  my  hand,  telling  me  that 
he  knew  me  very  well,  and  that  he  would  venture 
life  and  all  that  he  had  in  the  world  to  set  me  down 
safe  in  France. 

"  So  about  seven  in  the  morning  (October  15), 
it  being  high  water,  we  went  out  of  the  port ;  but 
the  master  being  bound  for  Pool,  laden  with  sea- 


200  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

coal,  because  he  would  not  have  it  seen  from  Shore- 
ham  that  he  did  not  go  his  intended  voyage,,  stood 
all  the  day,  with  a  very  easy  sail,  towards  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  only  my  Lord  Wilmot  and  myself  of  my 
company  on  board.  And  as  we  were  sailing  the 
master  came  to  me,  and  desired  me  to  persuade  his 
men  to  use  their  endeavour  (with  me)  to  get  him 
to  set  us  on  shore  in  France,  the  better  to  cover 
him  from  any  suspicion  thereof.  Upon  which  I 
sent  to  the  men  which  were  forward  a  boy,  and 
told  them  truly  that  we  were  two  merchants  that 
had  had  some  misfortunes  and  were  a  little  in  debt ; 
that  we  had  some  money  owing  us  at  Rouen,  in 
France,  and  were  afraid  of  being  arrested  in  Eng- 
land ;  that  if  they  would  persuade  the  master  (the 
wind  being  very  fair)  to  give  us  a  trip  over  to  Diep- 
pe, or  one  of  the  ports  near  Rouen,  they  would 
oblige  us  very  much;  and  with  that  I  gave  'em 
twenty  shillings  to  drink,  upon  which  they  under- 
took to  second  me  if  I  would  propose  it  to  their 
master.  So  I  went  to  the  master  and  told  him  our 
condition,  and  that,  if  he  would  give  us  a  trip  over 
to  France,  we  would  give  him  a  consideration  for 
it ;  upon  which  he  counterfeited  a  difficulty,  saying 
it  would  hinder  his  voyage ;  but  his  men,  as  they 
had  promised,  joined  their  persuasions  to  ours,  and 
at  last  he  yielded  to  set  us  over." 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  being  then  off 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  the  master  put  the  helm  about, 
and  steered  direct  for  the  French  coast.  It  waa 
near  break  of  day  when  the  welcome  land  first 
came  in  sight.  But  they  were  destined  to  have  one 
fright  more.  The  tide  failing  and  the  wind  going 
round  to  the  south,  they  were  obliged  to  cast  anchor 


CHARLES    II. 

within  two  miles  of  the  shore.  While  they  were 
in  this  situation,  a  vessel  was  seen  to  leeward,  which, 
from  "  her  nimble  working,"  they  suspected  to  be  an 
Ostend  privateer.  France  and  Spain  were  then  at 
war,  and  Charles  feared  that,  finding  them  off  a 
French  port,  the  Spanish  privateer  might  seize  and 
carry  them  to  England,  or  that  Tattersal  might  sail 
back  again  to  avoid  being  captured.  To  prevent 
such  a  disaster,  Charles  determined  not  to  wait  for 
the  rising  of  the  tide,  but  to  quit  the  ship  as  soon 
as  possible.  They  were  accordingly  conveyed  to 
the  shore  in  the  cockboat,  which  landed  them  at 
Fecamp,  in  the  province  of  Normandy.  Their 
fears,  however,  were  groundless,  for  the  supposed 
privateer  turned  out  to  be  a  French  sloop.* 

Having  procured  horses  at  Fecamp,  the  king  and 
his  companion  hastened  onward  to  Rouen.  Their 
appearance  was  evidently  not  calculated  to  gain  for 
them  a  favourable  reception  from  a  Norman  inn. 
keeper.  They  went  to  an  inn  in  the  fish-market, 
one  of  the  best  in  the  city,  "  where,"  says  Charles, 
"  they  made  a  difficulty  to  receive  us,  taking  us  by 
our  clothes  to  be  some  thieves,  or  persons  who  had 

*  After  the  Restoration,  Tattersal  is  said  to  have  hit  upon  an 
ingenious  plan  to  bring  himself  to  the  king's  recollection.  He 
brought  up  the  Thames,  and  moored  opposite  to  Whitehall,  the 
vessel  in  which  he  had  conveyed  Charles  to  France.  His  plan 
was  successful.  He  received  a  pension  of  1002.  per  annum,  and 
was  made  a  captain  in  the  royal  navy.  He  died  in  1674,  and  was 
*>uried  in  St.  Nicholas  Churchyard,  at  Brighton.  His  epitaph, 
which,  in  execrable  verse,  gravely  tells  us  that "  he  preserved 
the  Church,  the  crown,  the  nation  ;"  that  "  all  the  world  was  in 
debt  to  his  memory"  for  saving  "  Charles  the  Great ;"  and  that 
*  earth  could  not  reward  the  worth  him  given,"  can  scarcely  fail 
to  excite  a  bitter  smile  when  we  call  to  mind  the  many  circum- 
stances that  brand  with  indelible  disgrace  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  Second. 


202  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

been  doing  some  very  ill  thing,  until  Mr.  Sanbourne, 
a  merchant  for  whom  I  sent,  came  and  answered 
for  us."  At  Rouen  they  stayed  for  a  day,  to  provide 
themselves  with  more  seemly  attire,  and  then  pro. 
ceeded  to  Paris,  near  which  city  they  were  met  by 
the  queen-dowager  Henrietta  Maria,  with  whom 
they  made  their  entrance  into  the  French  capital 


ESCAPE  OF  THE  EARL  OF  NITHSDALE. 

IN  the  rebellion  of  1715,  the  object  of  which  was 
to  place  on  the  throne  the  son  of  James  the  Second, 
several  Scottish  peers  were  involved.  Among  them 
was  William  Maxwell,  earl  of  Nithsdale.  He  was 
taken  prisoner  at  Preston,  brought  to  trial  early  in 
1716,  and  found  guilty  of  high  treason.  Nithsdale 
was  a  descendant  from  the  brave  Sir  Eustace  Max- 
well,  who  distinguished  himself  by  his  unalterable 
fidelity  to  the  cause  of  Robert  Bruce.  The  subse- 
quent Maxwells  seem  to  have  been  as  firmly  attach, 
ed  to  the  Stuart  family  as  their  ancestor  had  been 
to  the  Bruce.  During  the  Civil  War  between 
Charles  the  First  and  the  Parliament,  two  of  the 
earls  Nithsdale  bore  arms  and  took  a  very  active 
part  on  the  side  of  the  monu-ch.  It  is  chieiy  to 
this  circumstance,  and  to  his  being  a  Catholic,  that 
the  wife  of  Earl  Willian.  attributes  the  severity 
which  was  experienced  by  her  husband.  "  He  be- 
ing,"  says  she,  "  a  Roman  Catholic  upon  the  fron- 
tiers of  Scotland,  who  headed  a  very  considerable 
party — a  man  whose  family  had  always  signalized 
itself  by  its  loyalty  to  the  royal  house  of  Stuart,  and 
who  was  the  only  support  of  the  Catholics  against 
the  inveteracy  of  the  Whigs,  who  were  very  nu- 
merous in  that  part  of  Scotland — would  become  an 
agreeable  sacrifice  to  the  opposite  party.  They 
still  retained  a  lively  remembrance  of  his  grand- 
father, who  defended  his  own  castle  of  Caerlaverock 
to  the  very  last  extremity,  and  surrendered  it  up 


204  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

only  by  the  express  command  of  his  royal  master. 
Now,  having  his  grandson  in  their  power,  they 
were  determined  not  to  let  him  escape  from  theit 
hands." 

The  surrender  of  Preston  took  place  in  the  mid- 
die  of  November.  Winter  had  set  in  with  great 
rigour  before  the  Countess  of  Nithsdale  received  the 
melancholy  tidings  that  her  husband  was  in  the 
Tower,  and  that  his  life  was  in  imminent  danger. 
She  heard,  too,  that  he  had  manifested  the  utmost 
anxiety  to  have  the  consolation  of  seeing  her.  In 
those  days,  when  conveyances  were  of  the  most  im- 
perfect kind,  a  hasty  journey  to  the  British  capital, 
at  such  a  dreary  season,  was  no  light  undertaking. 
But,  consulting  only  her  affection,  this  noble-spirited 
woman  set  off  without  delay.  She  rode  to  New. 
castle,  whence  she  proceeded  to  York  by  the  stage. 
On  her  arrival  at  York,  the  country  was  covered 
to  such  a  depth  with  snow,  and  the  weather  was  so 
inclement,  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  stage  to 
continue  its  progress.  Even  the  mail  could  not  be 
forwarded.  But,  while  her  husband  stood  in  need 
of  comfort  and  succour,  she  was  not  to  be  stopped 
by  the  formidable  obstacles  which  were  opposed  to 
her.  She  resolutely  took  horse ;  and,  though  the 
snow  was  frequently  above  the  horse's  girths,  she 
reached  London  "  safe  and  sound,  and  without  any 
accident." 

But,  though  she  had  happily  accomplished  her 
toilsome  journey,  there  were  still  serious  difficul. 
ties  to  be  overcome.  On  her  applying  to  the  gov- 
ernment  to  be  allowed  to  see  her  husband,  she  me: 
with  a  repulse;  she  was  told  that  her  wish  could 
not  be  granted,  unless  she  would  consent  to  be  shut 


EARL    OF    MTHSDALE. 

jp  with  him  in  the  Tower.  To  this,  however,  she 
*ould  not  submit ;  and  she  assigned  as  her  reason 
that  she  was  in  a  state  of  health  which  would  not 
•suffer  her  to  undergo  confinement.  Her  real  mo- 
tive for  refusing  was,  that  her  being  thus  secluded 
would  prevent  her  from  soliciting  in  her  husband's 
kehalf,  and,  what  was  of  far  more  importance,  would 
render  abortive  a  scheme  which  she  had  already 
formed  to  effect  his  escape.  The  refusal  she  had 
received  from  the  government  did  not  prevent  her 
from  obtaining  frequent  interviews  with  her  hus- 
band. "  By  bribing  the  guards,"  says  she,  "  I  often 
contrived  to  see  my  lord,  till  the  day  upon  which 
the  prisoners  were  condemned  ;  after  that  we  were 
allowed,  for  the  last  week,  to  see  and  take  our  leave 
of  them." 

As  soon  as  she  arrived  in  London,  she  began  her 
exertions  to  ward  off  the  danger  which  impended 
over  the  man  she  loved.  Her  first  applications 
were  made  to  persons  in  office,  or  possessing  po- 
litical influence.  The  result  would  have  disheart- 
ened any  one  less  determined  to  persevere.  Not 
a  single  individual  held  out  to  her  the  slightest 
hopes.  From  every  mouth  she  heard  the  dreadful 
assurance  that,  though  some  of  the  captives  would 
be  pardoned,  it  was  absolutely  certain  that  Lord 
Nithsdale  would  not  be  included  in  the  number. 

From  a  direct  appeal  to  the  sovereign  there  was 
little  or  no  prospect  of  benefit.  George  the  First 
is  said  to  have  expressly  prohibited  any  petition 
being  conveyed  into  his  hands  from  the  earl,  and 
even  to  have  taken  precautions  to  avoid  a  personal 
supplication  being  made  to  him.  Lord  Nithsdale, 
however,  was  extremely  anxious  that  the  king 


806  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

should  receive  one  ;  not,  it  appears,  merely  foi 
his  own  sake,  but  because  he  flattered  himself  it 
might  excite  an  interest  in  favour  of  his  wife. 
Though  the  countess  felt  convinced  that  the  step 
would  be  unavailing,  she  consented  to  make  the 
;rial,  for  the  purpose  of  satisfying  her  husband. 
•*  So,  the  first  day  that  I  heard  the  king  was  to  go  to 
the  drawing-room,"  says  Lady  Nithsdale, "  I  dress- 
«d  myself  in  black,  as  if  I  had  been  mourning,  and 
sent  for  Mrs.  Morgan  (the  same  who  accompanied 
me  to  the  Tower) ;  because,  as  I  did  not  know  his 
majesty  personally,  I  might  have  mistaken  some 
other  person  for  him.  She  stayed  by  me,  and  told 
me  when  he  was  coming.  I  had  another  lady  with 
me  (Lady  Nairn),  and  we  three  remained  in  a 
room  oetween  the  king's  apartments  and  the  draw- 
ing-room, so  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  through  it ; 
and,  as  there  were  three  windows  in  it,  we  sat  in 
the  middle  one,  that  I  might  have  time  enough  to 
meet  him  before  he  could  pass.  I  threw  myself  at 
his  feet,  and  told  him  in  French  that  I  was  the  un- 
fortunate Countess  of  Nithsdale,  that  he  might  not 
pretend  to  be  ignorant  of  my  person.  But,  perceiv- 
ing that  he  wanted  to  go  off  without  receiving  my 
petition,  I  caught  hold  of  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  that 
he  might  stop  and  hear  me.  He  endeavoured  to 
escape  out  of  my  hands ;  but  I  kept  such  strong 
hold  that  he  dragged  me  on  my  knees  from  the 
middle  of  the  room  to  the  very  door  of  the  draw- 
ing-room. At  last,  one  of  the  blue  ribands,  who 
attended  his  majesty,  took  me  round  the  waist, 
while  another  wrested  the  coat  out  of  my  hands. 
The  petition,  which  I  had  endeavoured  to  thrust 
into  his  pocket,  fell  down  in  the  scuffle,  and  I  al 


EARL    OF    NITHSDALE.  20? 

most  fainted  away  through  grief  and  disappoint, 
meat.  One  of  the  gentlemen  in  waiting  picked  up 
the  petition ;  and,  as  I  knew  that  it  ought  to  have 
been  given  to  the  lord  of  the  bedchamber  who 
was  then  in  waiting,  I  wrote  to  him,  and  entreated 
him  to  do  me  the  favour  to  read  the  petition  which 
I  had  had  the  honour  to  present  to  his  majesty. 
Fortunately  for  me,  it  happened  to  be  my  Lord 
Dorset,  with  whom  Mrs.  Morgan  was  very  intimate. 
Accordingly,  she  went  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
delivered  him  the  letter,  which  he  received  very 
graciously.  He  could  not  read  it  then»  as  he  was 
at  cards  with  the  prince ;  but,  as  soon  as  ever  the 
game  was  over,  he  read  it,  and  behaved,  as  I  after- 
ward learned,  with  the  warmest  zeal  for  my  inter, 
est,  and  was  seconded  by  the  Duke  of  Montrose, 
who  had  seen  me  in  the  antechamber,  and  wanted 
to  speak  to  me.  But  I  made  him  a  sign  not  to 
come  near  me,  lest  his  acquaintance  might  thwart 
my  designs.  They  read  over  the  petition  several 
times,  but  without  any  success ;  but  it  became  the 
topic  of  their  conversation  the  rest  of  the  evening ; 
and  the  harshness  with  which  I  had  been  treated 
soon  spread  abroad,  not  much  to  the  honour  of  the 
king." 

This  fruitless  supplication  seems  to  have  even 
accelerated  the  fate  of  the  condemned  peers.  It 
was  made  on  Monday,  the  13th  of  February,  and 
on  the  Thursday  or  Friday  following  it  was  re- 
solved in  council  that  the  sentence  passed  on  the 
delinquents  should  be  carried  into  effect.  The 
•eedful  preliminary  warrants  and  orders  to  the 
lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  and  to  the  sheriffs  of  Lon- 
don and  Middlesex,  were  accordingly  issued  on 
Saturday. 


208  PERiLc-t'S    ADVENTURES. 


While  these  matters  were  in  progress,  the  Count- 
ess of  Derwentwater,  accompanied  by  the  Duchesses 
of  Cleveland  and  Bolton,  and  several  other  ladies 
of  the  highest  rank,  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  pri- 
vate audience  of  the  king,  and  implored  his  clemency 
for  her  husband.  She  was  suffered  to  speak,  but 
her  prayers  were  in  vain. 

There  was  yet  one  resource  left.  It  was  indeed 
a  weak  one,  but  we  know  that  a  drowning  person 
will  catch  at  a  straw.  This  was  to  petition  the 
two  houses  of  Parliament  to  intercede  for  the  crimi- 
nals. On  the  21st  of  February,  the  wives  of  the 
doomed  lords,  with  about  twenty  more  ladies  of 
rank,  went  to  the  Parliament  House  to  present  peti- 
tions, and  solicit  the  members  as  they  entered. 
Nothing,  however,  was  done  by  either  assembly  on 
that  day.  On  the  ensuing  morning,  the  mournful 
band  of  wives,  with  an  increased  number  of  female 
friends,  again  stationed  themselves  in  the  lobbies, 
to  win  the  votes  of  the  members.  This  measure 
produced  considerable  effect.  Many  were  moved 
by  the  tears  and  pleadings  of  the  melancholy  sup- 
plicants. He  is  little  to  be  envied  who  could  wit- 
ness a  woman's  grief  without  feeling  his  heart  re- 
lent. 

In  the  Commons,  the  petitions  were  presented 
by  Sir  Richard  Steele,  Mr.  Shippen,  and  others, 
all  of  whom  strenuously  exerted  themselves  to  turn 
the  scale  on  the  side  of  mercy.  The  speech  of 
Sir  Richard  Steele,  in  particular,  was  copious  and 
forcible  ;  and  must  have  been  powerful  in  its  ef- 
fect, as  it  drew  down  on  him  the  virulent  abuse 
and  slander  of  the  ministerial  journals.  The  mo. 
tion  to  address  the  king  in  favour  of  the  delin- 


EARL    OF    NITHSDALE. 

quents  was  hotly  opposed  by  the  ministers  and  the 
stanchest  of  their  adherents.  Walpole  spoke  with 
a  violence  which  did  him  no  credit.  He  scarcely 
stopped  short  of  stigmatizing  as  traitois  all  who 
wished  the  king  to  exercise  in  this  instance  his 
prerogative  of  pardoning.  His  anger  was  doubt- 
less  heightened  by  finding  that  many  who  usually 
voted  with  him  were  resolved  not  to  do  so  in  the 
present  case.  Fearing  that,  if  the  question  of  an 
address  were  put  to  the  vote,  he  should  be  led  in  a 
minority,  he  moved  an  adjournment  for  a  week. 
Even  this  point  he  could  carry  by  a  majority  of 
only  seven  votes  out  of  three  hundred  and  seven- 
teen,  there  being  one  hundred  and  sixty-two  in 
the  affirmative,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  in 
the  negative.  But  by  his  success  he  closed  one 
avenue  to  the  gates  of  mercy. 

A  still  more  vigorous  struggle  was  made  in  the 
Upper  House.  Many  of  the  lords  had  been  gained 
over  by  female  eloquence.  "  I  went,"  says  the 
countess,  "  in  company  of  most  of  the  ladies  of 
quality  who  were  then  in  town,  to  solicit  the  inter- 
est  of  the  lords  as  they  were  going  to  the  house. 
They  all  behaved  to  me  with  great  civility,  but  par- 
ticularly my  Lord  Pembroke,  who,  though  he  de- 
sired me  not  to  speak  to  him,  yet  promised  to  em- 
ploy his  interest  in  our  favour,  and  honourably  kept 
his  word,  for  he  spoke  in  the  house  very  strongly 
in  our  behalf." 

A  long  and  animated  debate  took  place  on  the 
question  of  whether  the  petitions  should  be  read. 
This  was  vehemently  opposed  by  the  ministers  and 
their  friends.  The  reading  was  nevertheless  car- 
ried  in  the  affirmative,  though  by  a  small  majority. 
24—14 


210  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

This  result  seems  to  have  been  produced  chieflj 
by  the  favourable  speech  of  the  Earl  of  Notting. 
ham,  the  president  of  the  council,  whHi  drew  sev- 
eral  of  the  peers  to  follow  his  example.  Foiled  in 
this  point,  the  opponents  of  the  petitions  next  con- 
tended  that  the  sovereign  had  no  power  to  pardon 
or  reprieve  persons  who  had  been  sentenced  under 
an  impeachment.  But  here  again  they  failed, 
it  being  decided  that  the  disputed  power  was  pos- 
sessed by  the  king.  Lord  Pembroke  had  a  prin- 
cipal share  in  producing  this  decision. 

Having  thus  far  succeeded,  the  advocates  of  the 
condemned  peers  moved  that  an  address  should  be 
presented  to  his  majesty,  entreating  him  to  grant 
a  respite  to  the  convicted  lords.  But,  to  render 
nugatory  all  that,  had  been  done,  the  opposite  party 
moved  as  an  amendment  that  his  majesty  should 
be  requested  to  reprieve  such  of  the  guilty  peers 
as  might  deserve  his  mercy.  This  was,  in  fact, 
proposing  to  send  to  the  block  the  only  delinquents 
who  were  in  danger,  it  being  well  known  that  their 
companions  would  be  spared.  This  amendment 
was  carried,  as  was  also  another,  that  the  dura- 
tion of  the  respite  should  be  left  to  his  majesty's 
wisdom  and  discretion.  The  address  was  present 
ed  on  the  same  evening ;  and  the  king  replied  that 
on  this  and  other  occasions,  he  would  do  as  h? 
thought  most  consistent  with  the  dignity  of  hi* 
crown  and  the  safety  of  his  people. 

The  meaning  of  the  king's  words  did  not  long 
remain  ambiguous.  On  the  evening  of  the  next 
day,  the  23d  of  February,  a  council  was  held  to 
decide  upon,  or,  rather,  to  announce  the  fate  of  the 
prisoners.  A  respite  was  granted  to  the  Earl  of 


EARL    OF    NITHSDALE.  211 

Carnwath,  and  the  Lords  Widdriugton  and  Nairn , 
but  orders  were  given  to  execute  the  Earls  of  Der- 
wentwater  and  Nithsdale,  and  Viscount  Kenmure, 
on  the  following  morning.  At  the  council,  a  disa- 
greement on  this  subject  is  said  to  have  arisen  be- 
tween the  Earl  of  Nottingham  and  some  of  his  fel- 
low-councillors. His  voting  for  lenient  measures 
was  so  highly  resented  by  the  court,  that,  before 
the  end  of  the  month,  his  lordship  himself,  his  broth- 
er the  Earl  of  Aylesford,  his  son,  Lord  French, 
and  his  nephew,  Lord  Guernsey,  were  all  dismiss- 
ed from  their  offices. 

From  the  very  first,  the  Countess  of  Nithsdale 
had  placed  but  little  reliance  on  the  royal  clemen- 
cy, and  had  busied  herself  in  devising  the  means 
for  her  husband's  escape.  But,  as  soon  as  she 
heard  the  turn  which  the  debate  had  taken  in  the 
House  of  Peers,  she  saw  clearly  that  he  could  ex- 
pect no  favour  from  the  government.  "The  sal- 
vo," says  this  high-spirited  woman,  "  quite  blasted 
all  my  hopes  ;  for  I  was  assured  it  aimed  at  the 
exclusion  of  those  who  should  refuse  to  subscribe 
to  the  petition,  which  was  a  thing  I  knew  my  lord 
would  never  submit  to ;  nor,  in  fact,  could  I  wish 
him  to  preserve  his  life  on  such  terms."  There 
remained,  therefore,  no  other  resource  than  to  car- 
ry into  effect,  without  delay,  the  scheme  which  she 
had  formed  to  save  him.  She  had  less  than  four- 
and-twenty  hours  in  which  to  accomplish  her  pur- 
pose. If  within  that  short  time  she  could  not  res- 
cue her  husband,  his  death  was  inevitable.  With 
what  admirable  skill  and  presence  of  mind  she 
achieved  her  arduous  task,  shall  be  told  in  her  own 
words. 

R 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

"  As  the  motion  had  passed  generally,  I  thought 
1  could  draw  some  advantage  in  favour  of  my  de- 
sign. Accordingly,  I  immediately  left  the  House 
of  Lords  and  hastened  to  the  Tower,  where,  affect- 
ing  an  air  of  joy  and  satisfaction,  I  told  all  the 
guards  I  passed  that  I  came  to  bring  joyful  tidings 
to  the  prisoner.  I  desired  them  to  lay  aside  their 
fears,  for  the  petition  had  passed  the  house  in  their 
favour.  I  then  gave  them  some  money  to  drink 
to  the  lords  and  his  majesty,  though  it  was  but 
trifling ;  for  I  thought  that,  if  I  were  too  liberal  on 
the  occasion,  they  might  suspect  my  designs,  and 
that  giving  them  something  would  gain  their  good- 
humour  and  services  for  the  next  day,  which  was 
the  eve  of  the  execution. 

"  The  next  morning  I  could  not  go  to  the  Tow- 
er, having  so  many  things  on  my  hands  to  put  in 
readiness  ;  but  in  the  evening,  when  all  was  ready, 
I  sent  for  Mrs.  Mills,  with  whom  I  lodged,  and  ac. 
quainted  her  with  my  design  of  attempting  my 
lord's  escape,  as  there  was  no  prospect  of  his  being 
pardoned ;  and  this  was  the  last  night  before  the 
execution.  I  told  her  that  I  had  everything  in 
readiness,  and  that  I  trusted  she  would  not  refuse 
to  accompany  me,  that  my  lord  might  pass  for  her. 
I  pressed  her  to  come  immediately,  as  we  had  no 
time  to  lose.  At  the  same  time  I  sent  for  a  Mrs. 
Morgan,  then  usually  known  by  the  name  of  Hil. 
ton,  to  whose  acquaintance  my  dear  Evans  had  in. 
troduced  me,  which  I  looked  upon  as  a  very  singu- 
lar happiness.  I  immediately  communicated  my 
resolution  to  her.  She  was  of  a  very  tall  and 
•lender  make ;  so  I  begged  her  to  put  under  her 
own  riding-hood  one  that  I  had  prepared  for  Mr* 


EARL    OF    .MTU. si)  A  1,1..  213 

Mills,  as  she  was  to  lend  hers  to  my  lord,  that  in 
coming  out  he  might  be  taken  for  her.  Mrs.  Mills 
was  not  only  of  the  same  height,  but  nearly  the 
same  size  as  my  lord.  When  we  were  in  the  coach 
I  never  ceased  talking,  that  they  might  have  no  lei- 
sure  to  reflect.  Their  surprise  and  astonishment, 
when  I  first  opened  my  design  to  them,  had  made 
them  consent  without  ever  thinking  of  the  conse- 
quences. On  our  arrival  in  the  Tower,  the  first  1 
introduced  was  Mrs.  Morgan  ;  for  I  was  only  al. 
lowed  to  take  in  one  at  a  time.  She  brought  in 
the  clothes  that  were  to  serve  Mrs.  Mills  when  she 
left  her  own  behind  her.  When  Mrs.  Morgan  had 
taken  off  what  she  had  brought  for  my  purpose,  I 
conducted  her  back  to  the  staircase,  and,  in  going, 
I  begged  her  to  send  me  in  my  maid  to  dress  me ; 
that  I  was  afraid  of  being  too  late  to  present  my 
last  petition  that  night  if  she  did  not  come  imme- 
diately. I  despatched  her  safe,  and  went  partly 
down  stairs  to  meet  Mrs.  Mills,  who  had  the  pre- 
caution  to  hold  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  as 
was  very  natural  for  a  woman  to  do  when  she  was 
going  to  bid  her  last  farewell  to  a  friend  on  the  eve 
of  his  execution.  I  had,  indeed,  desired  her  to  do 
it,  that  my  lord  might  go  out  in  the  same  manner. 
Her  eyebrows  were  rather  inclined  to  be  sandy, 
and  my  lord's  were  dark  and  very  thick  ;  however,. 
I  had  prepared  some  paint  of  the  colour  of  hers  to 
disguise  his  with.  I  also  bought  an  artificial  head, 
dress  of  the  same  coloured  hair  as  hers  ;  and  I 
painted  his  face  with  white,  and  his  cheeks  with 
rouge,  to  hide  his  long  beard,  which  he  had  not  had 
time  to  shave.  All  this  provision  I  had  before  left 
«n  'he  Tower.  The  poor  guards,  whom  my  slight 


214  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

liberality  the  day  before  had  endeared  me  to,  let 
me  go  quietly  with  my  company,  and  were  not  so 
strictly  on  the  watch  as  they  usually  had  been  ;  and 
the  more  so,  as  they  were  persuaded,  from  what  I 
had  told  them  the  day  before,  that  the  prisoners 
would  obtain  their  pardon.  1  made  Mrs.  Mills  take 
off  her  own  hood  and  put  on  that  which  I  had 
brought  for  her.  I  then  took  her  by  the  hand  and 
led  her  out  of  my  lord's  chamber  ;  and,  in  passing 
through  the  next  room,  in  which  there  were  several 
people,  with  all  the  concern  imaginable  I  said, '  My 
dear  Mrs.  Catharine,  go  in  all  haste  and  send  me 
my  waiting-maid  ;  she  certainly  cannot  reflect  how 
late  it  is  ;  she  forgets  that  I  am  to  present  a  peti- 
tion to-night,  and  if  I  let  slip  this  opportunity  I  am 
undone,  for  to-morrow  will  be  too  late.  Hasten 
her  as  much  as  possible,  for  I  shall  be  on  thorns 
till  she  comes.'  Everybody  in  the  room,  who  were 
chiefly  the  guards'  wives  and  daughters,  seemed  to 
compassionate  me  exceedingly,  and  the  sentinel 
officiously  opened  the  door.  When  I  had  seen  her 
out  I  returned  back  to  my  lord  and  finished  dress- 
ing him.  1  had  taken  care  that  Mrs.  Mills  did  not 
go  out  crying  as  she  came  in,  that  my  lord  might 
the  better  pass  for  the  lady  who  came  in  crying  and 
afflicted  ;  and  the  more  so  because  he  had  the  same 
dress  she  wore.  When  I  had  almost  finished 
dressing  my  lord  in  all  my  petticoats  excepting 
one,  I  perceived  that  it  was  growing  dark,  and  was 
afraid  that  the  light  of  the  candles  might  betray  us ; 
so  I  resolved  to  set  off.  I  went  out,  leading  him 
by  the  hand,  and  he  held  his  handkerchief  to  his 
eyes.  I  spoke  to  him  in  the  most  piteous  and  af. 
flictcd  tone  of  voice,  bewailing  bitterly  the  negli- 


EARL    OF    MTHSDALE.  215 

gence  of  Evans,  who  had  ruined  me  by  her  delay. 
Then  said  I,  'My  dear  Mrs.  Betty,  for  the  love  of 
God  run  quickly  and  bring  her  with  you.  You 
know  my  lodging,  and,  if  ever  you  made  despatch 
in  your  life,  do  it  at  present.  I  am  almost  distract- 
ed with  this  disappointment.'  The  guards  opened 
the  doors,  and  1  went  down  stairs  with  him,  still 
conjuring  him  to  make  all  possible  despatch.  As 
soon  as  he  had  cleared  the  door  I  made  him  walk 
before  me,  for  fear  the  sentinel  should  take  notice 
of  his  walk ;  but  I  still  continued  to  press  him  to 
make  all  the  despatch  he  possibly  could.  At  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs  I  met  my  dear  Evans,  into 
whose  hands  I  confided  him.  I  had  before  enga- 
ged Mr.  Mills  to  be  in  readiness  before  the  Tower, 
to  conduct  him  to  some  place  of  safety  in  case  he 
succeeded.  He  looked  upon  the  affair  so  very  im- 
probable to  succeed,  that  his  astonishment  when  he 
saw  us  threw  him  into  such  consternation  that  he 
was  almost  out  of  himself ;  which  Evans  perceiv. 
ing,  with  the  greatest  presence  of  mind,  withou* 
telling  him  anything  lest  he  should  mistrust  them, 
conducted  him  to  some  of  her  own  friends  on  whom 
she  could  rely,  and  so  secured  him,  without  which 
we  should  have  been  undone.  When  she  had  con- 
ducted him  and  left  him  with  them,  she  returned  to 
find  Mr.  Mills,  who  by  this  time  had  recovered  him- 
self  from  his  astonishment.  They  went  home  to- 
gether, and,  having  found  a  place  of  security,  they 
conducted  him  to  it. 

"  In  the  mean  while,  as  I  had  pretended  to  have 
sent  the  young  lady  on  a  message,  I  was  obliged  tc 
return  up  stairs  and  go  back  to  my  lord's  room,  in 
the  same  feigned  anxiety  of  being  too  late,  so  that 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

everybody  seemed  sincerely  to  sympathize  with  my 
distress.  When  I  was  in  the  room,  I  talked  to  him 
as  if  he  had  been  really  present,  and  answered  my 
own  questions  in  my  lord's  voice,  as  nearly  as  I 
could  imitate  it.  I  walked  up  and  down  as  if  we 
were  conversing  together,  till  I  thought  they  had 
time  enough  thoroughly  to  clear  themselves  of  the 
guards.  I  then  thought  proper  to  make  off  also.  I 
opened  the  door  and  stood  half  in  it,  that  those  in 
the  outward  chamber  might  hear  what  I  said,  but 
held  it  so  close  that  they  could  not  look  in.  I  bade 
my  lord  a  formal  farewell  for  that  night,  and  ad 
ded,  that  something  more  than  usual  must  have 
happened  to  make  Evans  negligent  on  this  impor- 
tant occasion,  who  had  always  been  so  punctual  in 
the  smallest  trifles  ;  that  I  saw  no  other  remedy 
than  to  go  in  person  ;  that  if  the  Tower  were  still 
open  when  I  finished  my  business,  I  would  return 
that  night ;  but  that  he  might  be  assured  that  I 
would  be  with  him  as  early  in  the  morning  as  I 
could  gain  admittance  to  the  Tower ;  and  I  flatter- 
ed myself  I  should  bring  favourable  news.  Then, 
before  I  shut  the  door,  I  pulled  through  the  string 
of  the  latch,  so  that  it  could  only  be  opened  on  the 
inside.  I  then  shut  it  with  some  degree  of  force, 
that  I  might  be  sure  of  its  being  well  shut.  I  said 
to  the  servant  as  I  passed  by,  who  was  ignorant  of 
the  whole  transaction,  that  he  need  not  carry  can- 
dles in  to  his  master  till  my  lord  sent  for  him,  as 
he  desired  to  finish  some  prayers  first.  I  went 
down  stairs,  and  called  a  coach,  as  there  were  ser. 
eral  on  the  stand.  I  drove  home  to  my  lodgings, 
where  poor  Mr.  Mackenzie  had  been  waiting  to 
carry  the  p  Jtition  in  case  my  attempt  failed.  I 


EARL    OF    NITHSDALE.  217 

(old  him  there  was  no  need  of  any  petition,  as  my 
lord  was  safe  out  of  the  Tower  and  out  of  the 
hands  of  his  enemies,  but  that  I  did  not  know  where 
he  was. 

"  I  discharged  the  coach  and  sent  for  a  sedan- 
chair,  and  went  to  the  Duchess  of  Buccleugh,  who 
expected  me  about  that  time,  as  I  had  begged  of 
her  to  present  the  petition  for  me,  having  taken  my 
precautions  against  all  events.  I  asked  if  she  were 
at  home  ;  and  they  answered  that  she  expected  me, 
and  had  another  duchess  with  her.  1  refused  to  go- 
up  stairs,  as  she  had  company  with  her,  and  I  was 
not  in  a  condition  to  see  any  other  company.  I  beg. 
ged  to  be  shown  into  a  chamber  below  stairs,  and 
that  they  would  have  the  goodness  to  send  her 
grace's  maid  to  me,  having  something  to  say  to  her. 
I  had  discharged  the  chair,  lest  I  might  be  pursued 
and  watched.  When  the  maid  came  in,  I  desired 
her  to  present  my  most  humble  respects  to  her 
grace,  who  they  told  me  had  company  with  her,  and 
to  acquaint  her  that  this  was  my  only  reason  for 
not  coming  up  stairs.  I  also  charged  her  with  my 
sincerest  thanks  for  her  kind  offer  to  accompany 
me  when  I  went  to  present  my  petition.  I  added, 
that  she  might  spare  herself  any  farther  trouble,  as 
it  was  now  judged  more  advisable  to  present  one 
general  petition  in  the  name  of  all ;  however,  that 
I  should  never  be  unmindful  of  my  particular  obli- 
gations to  her  grace,  which  I  would  return  very 
soon  to  acknowledge  in  person. 

"  I  then  desired  one  of  the  servants  to  call  a  chair, 
and  I  went  to  the  Duchess  of  Montrose,  who  had 
always  borne  a  part  in  my  distresses.  When  I 
arrived,  she  left  her  comoany  to  deny  herself,  not 


2 IS  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

being  able  to  see  me  under  t  he  affliction  which  she 
judged  me  to  be  in.  By  mistake,  however,  I  was 
admitted  ;  so  there  was  no  remedy.  She  came  to 
me ;  and,  as  my  heart  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  1 
expressed  it  in  my  countenance  as  she  entered  the 
room.  I  ran  up  to  her  in  the  transport  of  my  joy. 
She  appeared  to  be  exceedingly  shocked  and  fright, 
ed,  and  has  since  confessed  to  me  that  she  appre- 
hended my  trouble  had  thrown  me  out  of  myself, 
till  I  communicated  my  happiness  to  her.  She 
then  advised  me  to  retire  to  some  place  of  security ; 
for  that  the  king  was  highly  displeased,  and  even 
enraged,  at  the  petition  I  had  presented  to  him,  and 
had  complained  of  it  severely.  I  sent  for  another 
chair  ;  for  I  always  discharged  them  immediately, 
lest  I  might  be  pursued.  Her  grace  said  she  would 
go  to  court,  to  see  how  the  news  of  my  lord's  escape 
was  received.  When  the  news  was  brought  to  the 
king,  he  flew  into  an  excess  of  passion,  and  said  he 
was  betrayed,  for  it  could  not  have  been  done  with- 
out some  confederacy.  He  instantly  despatched 
two  persons  to  the  Tower  to  see  that  the  other 
prisoners  were  secure,  lest  they  should  follow  the 
example.  Some  threw  the  blame  upon  one,  some 
upon  another.  The  duchess  was  the  only  one  at 
court  who  knew  it. 

"  When  I  left  the  duchess,  T  went  to  a  house 
which  Evans  had  found  out  for  me,  and  where  she 
promised  to  acquaint  me  where  my  lord  was.  She 
got  thither  some  few  minutes  after  me,  and  told  me 
that,  when  she  had  seen  him  secure,  she  went  in 
search  of  Mr.  Mills,  who  by  this  time  had  recover- 
ed himself  from  his  astonishment ;  that  he  had  re- 
turned to  her  house,  where  she  had  found  him  ;  and 


EARL    OF    NITI1MJALE.  219 

.hat  he  had  removed  my  lord  from  the  first  place 
where  she  had  desired  him  to  wait,  to  the  house  of 
a  poor  woman  directly  opposite  to  the  guardhouse. 
She  had  but  one  small  room  up  one  flight  of  stairs, 
and  a  very  small  bed  in  it.  We  threw  ourselves 
upon  the  bed,  that  we  might  not  be  heard  walking 
up  and  down.  She  left  us  a  bottle  of  wine  and 
some  bread,  and  Mrs.  Mills  brought  us  some  more 
in  her  pocket  the  next  day.  We  subsisted  on  this 
provision  from  Thursday  till  Saturday  night,  when 
Mrs.  Mills  came  and  conducted  my  lord  to  the  Ve 
netian  ambassador's.  We  did  not  communicate  the 
affair  to  his  excellency,  but  one  of  his  servants  con- 
cealed him  in  his  own  room  till  Wednesday,  on 
which  day  the  ambassador's  coach  and  six  was  to 
go  down  to  Dover  to  meet  his  brother.  My  lord 
put  on  a  livery,  and  went  down  in  the  retinue,  with- 
out the  least  suspicion,  to  Dover,  where  Mr.  Mitch. 
ell  (which  was  the  name  of  the  ambassador's  ser- 
vant) hired  a  small  vessel,  and  immediately  set  sail 
for  Calais.  The  passage  was  so  remarkably  short, 
that  the  captain  threw  out  this  reflection,  that  the 
wind  could  not  have  served  better  if  his  passengers 
had  been  flying  for  their  lives,  little  thinking  it  to 
be  really  the  case." 

The  courage  and  conduct  of  this  devotedly  affec- 
tionate wife  had  secured  her  husband's  safety,  but 
had  endangered  her  own.  George  the  First  had 
none  of  those  fine  and  chivalrous  feelings  which  in- 
duce their  possessor  to  admire  a  noble  action,  even 
though  his  own  plans  may  have  been  frustrated  by 
it.  He  was  already  much  irritated  by  her  pertina- 
cious attempt  to  force  the  petition  upon  him,  and 
this  additional  and  still  worse  offence  (for  such  he 


220  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

would  undoubtedly  deem  it)  could  not  fail  to  rouse 
ihis  utmost  anger.  She  therefore  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  keep  out  of  harm's  way  till  the  storm  was 
blown  over,  and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  dissimulate 
a  little  in  order  to  further  her  purpose.  "  For  my 
part,"  says  she, "  I  absconded  to  the  house  of  a  very 
honest  man  in  Drury  Lane,  where  I  remained  till  I 
was  assured  of  my  lord's  safe  arrival  on  the  Conti- 
nent. I  then  wrote  to  the  Duchess  of  Buccleugh 
(everybody  thought  till  then  that  I  was  gone  off  with 
my  lord),  to  tell  her  that  I  understood  I  was  suspect- 
ed of  having  contrived  my  lord's  escape,  as  was  very 
natural  to  suppose  ;  that,  if  I  could  have  been  happy 
enough  to  have  done  it,  I  should  be  flattered  to  have 
the  merit  of  it  attributed  to  me  ;  but  that  a  bare  sus- 
picion, without  proof,  could  never  be  a  sufficient 
ground  for  my  being  punished  for  a  supposed  of- 
fence, though  it  might  be  motive  enough  to  me  to 
provide  a  place  of  security ;  so  I  entreated  her  to 
procure  leave  for  me  to  go  with  safety  about  my 
business.  So  far  from  granting  my  request,  they 
were  resolved  to  secure  me  if  possible.  After  sev 
eral  debates,  Mr.  Solicitor-general  (Mr.  Fortescuo 
Aland),  who  was  an  utter  stranger  to  me,  had  the 
humanity  to  say  that,  since  I  showed  so  much  re. 
spect  to  government  as  not  to  appear  in  public,  it 
would  be  cruel  to  make  any  search  after  me : 
upon  which  it  was  decided  that,  if  I  remained  con. 
•eealed,  no  farther  search  should  be  made ;  but  that, 
if  I  appeared  either  in  England  or  Scotland,  I  should 
be  secured." 

This  scanty  portion  of  kindness  was  of  no  bene- 
fit wha^ver  to  the  countess.  "  It  was  not,"  sayt 
•he,  "  sufficient  for  me,  unless  I  would  submit  to  ex- 


EAUL,    OF    N1THSDALK.  221 

pose  my  son  to  beggary."  With  her  wonted  spirit 
she  determined  that,  "having  already  risked  her 
life  for  the  safety  of  the  father,  she  would  once  more 
hazard  it  for  the  fortune  of  the  child."  She  had 
been  summoned  in  such  haste  from  Scotland  that 
she  had  no  time  to  make  arrangements  before  she 
net  off  for  London.  The  family  papers  were  then 
in  her  hands,  and  there  was  no  one  in  whose  custo- 
dy she  could  venture  to  trust  them.  Her  avowal 
that  "  God  knows  what  might  have  transpired  from 
them  if  they  had  been  found,"  sufficiently  proves 
that  they  did  not  consist  merely  of  family  parch- 
ments  and  deeds.  She  had  no  doubt  that  the  house 
would  be  searched,  and  in  fact  it  was  so  immedi- 
ately after  her  departure.  In  this  emergency  she 
had  no  other  alternative  than  to  conceal  the  docu- 
ments under  ground,  with  other  things  of  value  ; 
the  gardener  being  the  only  person  who  was  in- 
trusted  with  the  secret  of  their  hiding-place. 

Though  the  papers  were  deposited  beyond  the 
reach  of  Nithsdale's  enemies,  they  were  by  no 
means  in  safety.  It  was  doubtful  whether  they 
might  not  have  been  irreparably  injured  by  the  late 
severe  winter,  and  it  was  certain  that  they  could 
not  long  remain  under  ground  without  almost  a 
certainty  of  being  destroyed.  The  countess  there- 
fore determined  to  brave  every  danger  to  save 
(hem.  In  truth,  the  danger  was  not  trifling ;  for 
her  person  was  perfectly  well  known  at  all  the 
considerable  inns  upon  the  north  road.  Having 
bought  three  saddle-horses  for  herself,  her  favour- 
ite attendant  Mrs.  Evans,  and  a  trusty  servant,  she 
set  out  on  her  toilsome  and  perilous  expedition. 
The  fatigue  of  traversing  between  three  and  four 


222  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

hundred  miles  of  country,  through  the  worst  pos- 
sible roads,  must  have  been  extreme  to  a  delicate 
female  who  was  unused  to  riding ;  for,  except  in 
her  recent  journey  to  London,  she  had  never  trav- 
elled on  horseback.  But  her  spirit  rose  above  ob- 
stacles  which  some  would  have  recoiled  from  as 
being  insurmountable.  To  elude  observation,  she 
put  up  at  the  most  obscure  and  retired  inns  she 
could  find,  where  she  had  never  been  before ;  and 
this  precaution  was  so  effectual  that  she  reached 
Traquair,  in  Peebles-shire,  without  having  been 
recognised  or  molested. 

At  Traquair  the  countess  ventured  to  rest  her- 
self for  two  days.  The  lord-lieutenant  of  the  coun- 
ty was  a  friend  of  the  earl,  and  she  was  certain 
that  he  would  not  allow  any  search  to  be  made  for 
her  till  he  had  given  her  warning  to  abscond.  She 
then  proceeded  to  her  house,  giving  out,  at  the  same 
time,  that  she  was  doing  so  by  permission  of  the 
government.  To  keep  up  the  deception  of  her  con- 
duct being  authorized,  she  invited  all  her  neighbours 
to  visit  her.  At  night  she  disinterred  the  papers, 
and  sent  them  off  to  Traquair.  Fortunately,  they 
had  sustained  no  injury.  She  was,  however,  not  a 
moment  too  early,  as  her  neighbours  began  to  en 
tertain  suspicions  with  respect  to  her.  Luckily, 
she  was  made  aware  of  these  suspicions  before  any 
steps  had  been  taken  to  act  upon  them.  "  By  a 
very  favourable  accident,"  says  she,  "one  of  them 
was  overheard  to  say  to  the  magistrates  of  Dum- 
fries, that  the  next  day  they  would  insist  upon  see- 
ing my  leave  from  government.  This  was  bruited 
about ;  and  when  I  was  told  of  it,  I  expressed  my 
surprise  that  they  had  been  so  backward  in  coming 


EARL  OF  MTHSDALH.  223 

to  pay  their  respects ;  but,  said  I,  better  late  than 
never :  be  sure  to  tell  them  that  they  shall  be  wel- 
come whenever  they  choose  to  come.  This  was 
after  dinner ;  but  I  lost  no  time  to  put  everything 
in  readiness,  but  with  all  possible  secrecy ;  and  the 
next  morning  before  daybreak  I  set  off  again  for 
London  with  the  same  attendants,  and,  as  before, 
I  put  up  at  the  smallest  inns,  and  arrived  safe  once 
more." 

The  disapprobation  which  was  widely  expressed 
in  regard  to  the  king's  want  of  feeling  when  he  was 
personally  supplicated  by  Lady  Nithsdale,  had  ex- 
cited  in  his  mind  an  inveterate  antipathy  against 
her.  This  was  manifested  in  various  ways.  When 
he  was  petitioned  for  dower  by  the  widows  of  the 
peers  who  had  been  found  guilty  of  treason,  he 
granted  the  request  with  only  one  exception  :  that, 
exception  was  the  Countess  of  Nithsdale,  whom  he 
declared  not  to  be  entitled  to  the  same  privilege. 
He  is  even  said  to  have  forbidden  her  name  to  be 
uttered  in  his  presence.  Her  visit  to  Scotland  of 
course  increased  his  wrath.  His  intellect,  at  least 
as  far  as  relates  to  moral  perceptions,  must  have 
been  of  more  than  common  obtuseness  not  to  com- 
j  prehend  that  a  woman  in  her  situation  deserved 
praise  for  acts  which  in  any  other  of  his  subjects 
would  doubtless  have  been  criminal.  Pardon  he 
might  not,  perhaps,  have  been  able  to  grant  to  the 
offending  husband  ;  but  to  his  sympathy  the  devo- 
ted and  despairing  wife  had  an  undeniable  claim. 
But,  notwithstanding  this,  his  rage  appears  to  have 
been  absolutely  furious.  "  A  lady  informed  me," 
says  Lady  Nithsdale,  "  that  the  king  was  extremely 
incensed  at  the  news  ;  that  he  had  issued  orders  tc 


224        PERILOUS  ADVEN  TURKS. 

have  me  arrested ;  adding,  that  I  did  whatever  I 
pleased,  in  despite  of  all  his  designs  ;  and  that  I  had 
given  him  more  trouble  than  any  woman  in  all  Eu- 
rope ;  for  which  reasons  I  kept  myself  as  closely 
concealed  as  possible  till  the  heat  of  these  rumours 
had  abated.  In  the  mean  while,  I  took  the  opinion 
of  a  very  famous  lawyer,  who  was  a  man  of  the 
strictest  probity ;  he  advised  me  to  go  off  as  soon 
as  they  had  ceased  searching  for  me.  I  followed 
his  advice ;  and,  about  a  fortnight  after,  I  escaped 
without  any  accident  whatever." 

The  life  which  this  admirable  woman  had  braved 
so  much  peril  to  preserve  was  protracted  for  a  long 
course  of  years.  Lord  Nithsdale  died  at  Rome  in 
1744,  fortunate  in  not  living  to  lament  that  his  na. 
tive  country  was  again  deluged  with  the  blood  of 
its  brave  but  misguided  inhabitants.  The  countess 
died  in  1749,  in  the  same  city;  and  if  her  feelings 
were  not  blunted  by  age,  her  having  survived  at 
once  her  husband  and  the  hopes  of  the  Stuart  race 
was  doubtless  a  sore  trial  to  her. 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        386 


PERILS  OF  STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI,  KING 
OF  POLAND. 

FEW  individuals  have  experienced  more  vicissi- 
tudes or  encountered  more  perils,  and  few,  if  any, 
have  borne  them  with  more  equanimity  and  forti- 
tude, than  Stanislaus  the  First,  surnamed  Leczinski, 
who  forms  the  subject  of  this  narrative.  His  fam- 
ily was  originally  Bohemian,  and  allied  to  the  sov- 
ereigns of  Bohemia ;  but  the  branch  from  which 
he  descended  had  been  established  in  Poland  du- 
ring the  reign  of  Mieceslas,  before  the  close  of  the 
tenth  century.  One  of  his  ancestors  was  the  found- 
er of  Leczno,  and  from  that  town  the  race  derived 
the  name  of  Leczinski. 

Stanislaus  was  born  on  the  20th  of  October, 
1677,  at  Lemberg,  then  the  capital  of  the  Polish 
district  called  Red  Russia,  as  it  now  is  of  the  Aus- 
trian province  of  Gallicia.  Raphael,  his  father,  who 
held  several  eminent  offices,  was  an  accomplish- 
ed and  high-minded  man,  who  spared  no  pains  in 
the  mental  and  corporeal  training  of  his  son.  As 
though  the  future  hardships  of  the  youthful  Stan- 
islaus had  been  foreseen,  he  waa  taught  to  be  pa- 
tient of  hunger  and  thirst,  heat  and  cold.  His 
frame  was  invigorated  by  exercise,  and  a  straw 
mattress  was  his  only  couch.  Equal  care  was 
taken  to  cultivate  his  intellectual  powers.  By  the 
time  that  he  was  seventeen,  he  was  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  Latin,  French,  and  Italian  lan- 
24—15 


226  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

guages ;  wrote  elegantly,  both  in  prose  and  verse, 
in  his  mother  tongue;  had  studied  eloquence  in 
the  pages  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  orators,  and 
attained  a  considerable  proficiency  in  mathematics 
and  mechanics.  The  whole  was  perfected  by  ex- 
tensive travel  through  foreign  lands. 

Stanislaus  was  early  initiated  into  public  affairs  ; 
he  filled  several  important  charges ;  and  gained 
universal  applause  by  his  virtues,  talents,  and  man. 
ners.  The  panegyrical  language  lavished  on  him 
by  Bishop  Zalucki  sounds  like  rhetorical  exagger- 
ation ;  but  the  man  whom  a  grave  ecclesiastic  could 
describe  as  "  the  ornament  of  Poland"  and  "  the 
delight  of  the  human  race"  must  have  possessed 
qualities  of  no  ordinary  kind. 

In  1704,  Stanislaus  was  suddenly  raised  to  a  sta- 
tion which  his  virtues  and  abilities  qualified  him  to 
fill  with  honour  to  himself  and  advantage  to  mill, 
ions,  but  which  adverse  circumstances  rendered 
a  fertile  cause  of  calamity  to  himself  and  to  his 
country.  For  his  unenviable  preferment  he  was 
indebted  to  the  misconduct  of  Augustus  II.,  the 
reigning  king  of  Poland.  That  prince,  by  his  un- 
constitutional proceedings,  and  by  wantonly  bring- 
ing upon  his  kingdom  the  formidable  enmity  of 
Charles  XII.,  had  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to 
a  large  majority  of  his  subjects,  who  were  in  open 
hostility  against  him.  Charles  had  resolved  to 
dethrone  him,  and  he  was  not  a  man  to  change  his 
purpose  :  his  resolves  were  like  the  laws  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians.  It  was  originally  his  inten- 
tion to  transfer  the  sceptre  to  James  Sobieski,  el- 
dest son  of  the  great  Sobieski ;  but  Augustus  having 
seized  and  imprisoned  the  prince  and  his  brothei 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1NSHI.        227 

Constantino,  and  the  other  brother,  Alexander,  hav- 
ing  refused  to  accept  the  diadem  to  their  prejudice, 
the  Swedish  monarch  was  obliged  to  look  else- 
where for  a  substitute.  While  he  was  hesitating 
as  to  his  choice,  Stanislaus,  who  was  then  palatine 
of  Posnania,  was  deputed  to  confer  with  him  on  the 
part  of  the  confederated  Poles.  In  the  interviews 
which  ensued,  the  palatine  displayed  such  maturity 
of  talent,  knowledge  of  state  affairs,  and  captiva- 
tion  of  manner,  that  Charles  exclaimed  to  two  of 
his  generals,  "  that  is  the  man  to  be  king."  The 
Polish  diet  accordingly  elected  Stanislaus,  and  his 
title  was  recognised  by  several  of  the  principal 
European  powers.  Augustus,  however,  made  vig- 
orous efforts  to  recover  the  sovereignty ;  but  re* 
peated  defeats  compelled  him,  in  1706,  to  sign  the 
treaty  of  Alt  Ranstadt,  by  which  he  solemnly  re- 
nounced all  his  claims,  and  acknowledged  his  rival 
as  the  legitimate  possessor  of  the  throne.  Fo/ 
two  years  after  the  conclusion  of  this  treaty,  Stan 
islaus,  incessantly  harassed  by  domestic  and  for- 
eign foes,  continued  to  hold  an  imperfect  and  pre- 
carious authority,  lamenting  every  moment  that 
he  was  powerless  to  make  his  subjects  prosperous 
and  happy.  No  monarch  could  ever  say  with 
more  reason,  "  uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a 
crown." 

The  terrible  defeat  at  Pultowa  reduced  Stanis- 
laus, as  well  as  Charles,  to  the  condition  of  a  fugi- 
tive. It  was  impossible  for  him  to  maintain  him- 
self on  a  throne  which  was  now  assailed  in  all  di- 
rections. Still  a  diet  which  he  had  convoked  refu- 
sed  to  accept  his  proffered  resignation  of  the  crown, 
and  loudly  protested  its  readiness  to  stand  by  him 
5 


228  PERILOUS    ADVENTUUfcS. 

But  protestations  of  affection  were  all  that  he  ob- 
tained. In  violation  of  his  oath,  the  deposed  Au- 
gustus entered  Poland  with  his  Saxon  army,  and 
was  seconded  by  the  victorious  Muscovites,  and  a 
number  of  malcontent  Polish  nobles.  Convinced 
that  an  attempt  to  keep  his  tooting  in  Poland  could 
only  lead  to  fruitless  bloodshed,  Stanislaus  retired 
into  Swedish  Pomerania.  There  he  exerted  him- 
self with  equal  ability  and  valour,  but  not.  with  the 
success  which  he  deserved,  to  preserve  the  German 
dominions  of  his  friend  from  being  ravaged  by  the 
Saxons,  Muscovites,  and  Danes.  Hence  he  passed 
into  Sweden,  where  he  rendered  many  essential 
services  to  its  absent  monarch. 

Weary  of  a  vain  title,  which  was  disastrous  to 
himself  and  to  his  fellow-creatures,  Stanislaus  was 
eager  to  abdicate  his  crown.  To  this  measure  he 
solicited  the  consent  of  the  Swedish  monarch ;  but 
the  inflexible  Charles  refused  to  comply ;  and,  when 
he  was  farther  pressed  on  the  subject,  he  angrily 
said,  **  If  my  friend  does  not  choose  to  be  king,  I 
can  easily  make  another."  In  the  hope  that  per- 
sonal entreaty  might  prevail  with  Charles,  Stanis- 
laus resolved  to  visit  Turkey.  Late  at  night  he 
secretly  quitted  the  Swedish  army  in  Pomerania, 
accompanied  by  Baron  Sparre  and  another  colonel. 
He  travelled  under  the  name  of  Haran,  a  French 
officer  in  the  Swedish  service.  The  journey  was 
a  hazardous  one,  as  he  had  to  pass  through  a  hos- 
tile territory,  and  to  coast,  as  it  were,  along  the 
enemy's  line  of  posts.  He  was  several  times  stop- 
ped, but  was  released  on  producing  his  passport. 
On  reaching  Jassy,  the  capital  of  Moldavia,  he 
thought  himself  secure,  and  here  took  leave  of  his 


STANISLAUS    LEC/.INSKI.  229 

companions.  But  circumstances  were  very  differ- 
ent in  Turkey  from  what  he  had  expected  to  find 
them.  Charles  had  irritated  the  Porte  by  his  con 
duct  at  Bender,  and  at  this  moment  the  Turks 
were  removing  him  as  a  prisoner  to  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Adrianople.  The  hospodar  of  Moldavia 
had  learned  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the  King 
of  Poland  from  the  Swedish  army,  and  he  suspect- 
ed the  traveller  was  that  monarch.  As  soon  as 
Stanislaus  was  brought  before  him,  he  knew  him 
from  the  description  which  he  had  received.  The 
dialogue  between  them  was  carried  on  in  Latin. 
After  having  put  several  questions,  the  Moldavian 
asked  him  what  rank  he  held.  "  Major  sum,"  re- 
plied Stanislaus.  "  Imo  maximus  es,"  rejoined  the 
hospodar,  who  immediately  paid  him  all  the  hon- 
ours due  to  a  crowned  head,  but  detained  him  as  a 
prisoner.  The  king  was  then  removed  to  Bender, 
from  which  Charles  had  just  departed.  Captive  as 
Charles  was,  and  with  no  apparent  chance  of  re- 
covering his  ascendency,  he  was  still  unshaken. 
He  despatched  Fabricius  to  his  brother-captive  to 
desire  that  he  would  never  make  peace  with  Au- 
gustus, and  to  assure  him  that,  ere  long,  a  benefi- 
cial change  would  take  place  in  the  situation  of 
their  affairs. 

Treated  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  respect, 
but  still  held  in  durance,  Stanislaus  remained  at 
Bender  till  Charles  resolved  to  return  to  his  own 
dominions.  Permission  to  depart  was  then  grant- 
ed to  the  Polish  monarch.  Charles  would  fain 
have  persuaded  him  to  participate  in  his  meditated 
enterprises ;  but  Stanislaus  firmly  replied,  "  No ; 
never  will  I  draw  my  sword  to  gain  for  me  the  re»- 


230  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

toration  of  a  crown."  "  Well,  then,"  said  »Jie 
generous  Swede,  "  I  will  draw  it  for  you ;  and,  till 
the  time  comes  for  our  entering  Warsaw  in  tri- 
amph,  I  give  you  my  principality  of  Deux-Ponts 
and  its  revenues !" 

It  was  late  in  May,  1714,  that  Stanislaus  quitted 
Bender.  In  disguise,  and  accompanied  by  Count 
Poniatowski,  he  passed  through  Moldavia,  Transyl- 
vania, Hungary,  and  a  considerable  portion  of 
Southern  Germany.  He  reached  Deux-Ponts  in 
safety,  and  was  put  in  possession  of  his  royal 
friend's  gift,  which  secured  to  him  a  yearly  revenue 
of  about  seventy  thousand  crowns. 

In  this  retreat  Stanislaus  enjoyed,  for  a  while,  a 
degree  of  tranquillity  to  which  he  had  during  many 
years  been  a  stranger.  He  was  now  reunited  to 
his  family,  consisting  of  his  mother,  wife,  and  two 
Daughters,  from  which  he  had  long  been  separated. 
•Jut  even  to  this  asylum  danger  and  misfortune 
pursued  him.  The  Polish  crown,  which  had  caused 
him  all  his  past  troubles,  was  again,  without  any 
fault  of  his  own,  a  source  of  annoyance  to  him. 
While  he  was  living  quietly  at  Deux-Ponts,  a  pro- 
ject was  formed  in  which  he  was  intended  to  acl 
a  conspicuous  part.  A  treaty  was  set  on  foot  be- 
tween Charles  XII.  and  the  Czar  Peter,  the  execu- 
tion of  which  would  have  spread  the  flames  of  war 
over  the  Continent,  and  even  into  the  British  isl- 
ands. The  Czar,  for  the  purpose  of  extending  the 
Muscovite  influence  in  Europe,  was  willing  perfid- 
iously  to  join  in  deposing  the  monarch  whom  he 
had  himself  forced  upon  the  Poles,  and  replacing 
Stanislaus  upon  the  throne.  To  frustrate  this  plan, 
Count  Flemming,  the  minister  of  Frederic  Augus. 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        23 I 

tus,  thought  no  means  so  sure  as  to  seize  and  carry 
off  the  rival  of  his  master.  A  band  of  French 
desperadoes,  to  the  number  of  thirty,  headed  by  an 
officer  named  Seissan,  was  employed  to  effect  this 
dastardly  achievement.  The  ruffians  proceeded  to 
Deux-Ponts,  where  their  leader  made  the  necessary 
preparations ;  relays  of  horses  were  provided,  and 
the  men  were  stationed  at  their  respective  posts. 
But,  on  the  very  eve  of  its  being  carried  into  exe- 
cution, the  plot  was  discovered.  Many  of  the  con- 
spirators escaped ;  but  Captain  Lecroix,  a  lieuten- 
ant, and  some  others,  were  seized  and  brought  be- 
fore Stanislaus.  Instead  of  ordering  them  to  exe- 
cution, as  they  probably  expected  and  certainly 
deserved,  the  clement  monarch  mildly  said, "  What 
wrong  did  I  ever  do  to  you,  my  friends,  that  you 
should  seek  my  life?  I  might  retaliate  and  take 
away  yours,  but  I  pardon  you ;  live,  and  become 
better  men."  Nor  did  his  goodness  stop  here. 
Learning  that  the  individual  who  was  their  purse- 
bearer  had  escaped  and  left  them  penniless,  he 
gave  them  a  sum  sufficient  to  support  them  on  their 
homeward  journey. 

The  same  year  the  persecuted  monarch  received 
a  much  severer  blow  in  the  death  of  his  eldest 
daughter;  and  in  the  year  following,  his  friend 
Charles  XII.  was  killed  at  the  siege  of  Frederic- 
shall.  By  the  decease  of  the  Swedish  monarch  the 
duchy  of  Deux-Ponts  devolved  upon  the  Count 
Palatine  Gustavus.  The  count  accordingly  took 
possession  of  his  inheritance,  and  Stanislaus  had 
to  seek  a  place  of  refuge  elsewhere.  Scarcely 
knowing  whither  to  turn  his  steps,  he  applied  to 
the  regent  Duke  of  Orleans,  who  gave  him  a  pen- 


232  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

sion,  and  allowed  him  to  choose  one  of  the  Alsatian 
towns  for  a  residence.  In  consequence  of  this  per- 
mission, Stanislaus  settled  at  Weissembourg  in 
1720.  Frederic  Augustus  had  the  meanness  to 
instruct  his  envoy  to  remonstrate  against  this  in. 
dulgcnce;  but  the  regent  nobly  replied,  "Let  your 
master  know,  sir,  that  France  has  always  been  the 
asylum  of  unfortunate  kings ;  that  she  has  taken 
the  King  of  Poland  under  her  protection,  and  thai 
she  never  withdraws  her  benefits."  Diplomacy 
having  failed,  recourse  was  had  to  a  viler  plan. 
A  scheme  was  formed  to  get  rid  of  him  by  means 
of  poisoned  snuff;  but,  happily,  it  was  frustrated. 
These  relentless  persecutions  had,  however,  for  a 
time,  the  effect  of  imbittering  his  existence  ano 
injuring  his  health. 

At  the  expiration  of  five  years  another  change 
in  his  fortunes  took  place.  In  1725,  his  daughtei 
Maria  Leczinska  was  selected  to  be  the  bride  ot 
Louis  XV.  This  amiable,  virtuous,  and  accom 
plished  female  deserved  the  throne  to  which  she  wat> 
called,  and  a  more  worthy  consort  than  the  man  to 
whom  she  was  united.  She,  like  her  father,  expe- 
rienced singular  vicissitudes.  In  her  infancy,  when 
her  family  was  flying  before  the  myrmidons  of 
Frederic  Augustus  and  Peter,  she  was  lost  in  a  vil- 
lage by  her  nurse,  and  was  found  again  in  the  trough 
of  a  stable ;  she  had  been  a  wanderer,  suffering 
almost  penury ;  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  her 
brow  was  encircled  by  the  regal  diadem.  On  the 
marriage  of  his  daughter  Stanislaus  quitted  Alsace, 
to  inhabit  the  princely  domain  of  Chambord,  and 
subsequently  of  Meudon. 

Stanislaus  seemed  at  last  to  be  securely  anchr*r- 


STANISLAUS  LECZiNSKI.         233 

«d,  as  far  as  mortal  could  be,  against  the  storms  oi 
adversity ;  but  he  was  nevertheless  destined  again 
to  endure  them.  He  had  spent  eight  years  in  calm 
and  dignified  retirement,  happy  in  his  family,  and 
amusing  himself  with  literature,  when  he  was 
thrown  once  more  on  the  tumultuous  ocean  of  pol- 
itics. By  the  death  of  his  successful  rival,  Fred- 
eric Augustus  II.,  the  throne  of  Poland  became  va- 
cant. The  voice  of  the  Poles  called  loudly  for 
their  exiled  king.  He,  however,  was  unfeignedly 
reluctant  to  comply  wilh  their  wishes  ;  he  had  no 
ambition  to  reign,  and  especially  in  a  country  where 
he  knew  that  he  would  expose  his  subjects  to  num- 
berless calamities.  Nor,  situated  as  Poland  was, 
could  he  hope  for  that  degree  of  co-operation  which 
would  give  him  a  chance  of  retaining  his  crown. 
"  I  know  the  Poles,**  said  he  ;  "I  am  sure  that  they 
will  elect  me,  but  I  am  equally  sure  that  they  will 
not  support  me."  In  an  evil  hour,  the  pressing  so- 
licitations of  the  French  cabinet,  and  the  promise  of 
efficient  aid  from  France,  induced  him  to  come  for- 
ward on  the  scene.  Yet  to  the  last  he  foreboded 
evil.  When  he  was  on  the  point  of  departing,  he 
said,  "  I  feel  that  I  shall  soon  be  near  my  enemies 
and  far  from  rny  friends." 

It  was  a  matter  of  difficulty  for  Stanislaus  even 
to  reach  Warsaw,  where  the  election  was  to  take 
place.  A  Russian  squadron  precluded  access  on 
the  side  of  the  Baltic,  and  the  Emperor  of  Germany 
had  given  strict  orders  to  arrest  him  if  he  were 
found  within  the  Austrian  dominions.  Instead  of 
furnishing  Stanislaus  with  a  formidable  fleet  to  an- 
nihilate  the  Muscovite  squadron,  the  French  cabinet 
descended  to  play  off  a  despicable  trick.  It  spread 


234  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

a  report  that  Stanislaus  was  to  command  an  arma- 
ment destined  for  Dantzic,  and  it  provided  a  coun. 
terfeit  of  him  to  keep  up  the  deception.  The 
Chevalier  de  Thiange,  who  bore  some  resemblance 
to  Stanislaus,  was  dressed  up  royally,  and,  screened 
from  detection  by  darkness,  was  embarked  at  Brest 
with  regal  honours.  While  this  pitiful  farce  was 
being  acted,  the  king,  accompanied  by  the  Chevalier 
d'Andelot,  both  disguised  as  merchants,  and  trav- 
elling in  an  old  carriage,  began  his  journey  to  Po- 
land. Once  only,  at  the  gates  of  Berlin,  did  he  run 
any  risk  of  being  discovered.  He  reached  Warsaw 
on  the  8th  of  September,  1733,  three  days  before 
the  election  was  to  take  place.  There  certainly 
was  more  of  ingenuity  than  dignity  in  this  French 
contrivance  for  smuggling  in  a  sovereign. 

When  the  diet  of  election  met,  sixty  thousand 
voices  hailed  Stanislaus  as  king.  But  he  had  their 
"  most  sweet  voices,"  and  little  more.  The  Polish 
army,  during  the  reign  of  the  late  sovereign,  had 
been  studiously  reduced  almost  to  a  nullity ;  and 
when  the  nobles  had  given  their  votes  to  their  illus- 
trious fellow-countryman,  they  hastened  to  their 
several  districts,  where  the  confederations  which 
they  formed  were  rendered  abortive  by  the  want 
of  discipline,  union,  and  systematic  operations,  no 
less  than  by  the  host  of  enemies  that  were  opposed 
to  them.  Sixty  thousand  Muscovites,  resolved  on 
the  downfall  of  the  new  king,  were  already  in  the 
heart  of  Poland  before  the  diet  was  closed.  A 
Saxon  army  brought  in  Frederic  Augustus,  the  eon 
of  the  late  monarch,  the  candidate  whom  Russia 
favoured,  and  who  was  illegally  elected  by  a  fac- 
tion, despicable  in  itself,  but  strong  in  its  barbarous 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1NSKT.         235 

allies.  Austria,  too,  held  her  armies  in  readiness 
to  take  part  in  this  unholy  crusade  against  Polish 
independence.  It  was  thus  she  paid  the  debt  of 
gratitude  which  she  owed  for  the  deliverance  of 
Vienna. 

Unable  to  cope  in  the  field  with  such  overwhelm, 
ing  forces,  Stanislaus  withdrew  to  Dantzic,  where 
he  hoped  to  hold  out  till  succours  could  arrive  from 
France,  or  his  own  party,  perhaps,  concentrate  its 
scattered  elements,  and  acquire  some  consistence. 
The  city  was  strong,  and  the  citizens,  enthusiasti- 
cally attached  to  the  monarch,  vowed  to  stand  by 
him  to  the  last  extremity.  They  nobly  redeemed 
their  pledge. 

The  siege  was  not  commenced  by  the  Russians 
till  the  latter  end  of  February,  1734.  Lasey,  by 
whom  it  was  begun,  was  soon  superseded  by  Mar- 
shal Munich,  who  resolved  to  act  more  vigorously 
than  his  predecessor.  His  success,  however,  was 
not  equal  to  his  daring.  In  an  assault  on  the  vil- 
lage of  Ohra,  which  forms  a  kind  of  suburb  on  the 
south  side  of  Dantzic,  he  was  repulsed,  with  the 
loss  of  fifteen  hundred  slain,  and  a  still  larger  num- 
ber of  wounded.  Nor  was  he  more  fortunate  in 
various  other  attacks. 

In  the  beginning  of  May,  the  Saxon  army,  under 
the  Duke  of  Saxe-Weissenfels,  was  despatched  to 
join  him.  Jealous  of  sharing  with  another  the 
glory  of  reducing  Dantzic,  Munich  resolved  to 
carry  immediately,  at  whatever  cost,  the  highly- 
important  work  called  the  Hagelsberg,  the  fall  of 
which,  he  had  no  doubt,  would  ensure  that  of  the 
city.  At  ten  in  the  evening  of  the  9th  of  May, 
six  thousand  Muscovites  advanced  to  the  ramparts  ; 


236  PERILOUS    ADVENTURLo. 

re-enforcements  were  constantly  sent  to  them,  and 
the  contest  was  furiously  kept  up  till  the  break  of 
day.  But  not  an  inch  of  ground  could  they  gain  , 
and  the  dawn  saw  the  shattered  and  baffled  rem- 
nant  of  the  assailants  retiring  to  their  camp.  Be. 
tween  four  and  five  thousand  Muscovites  were 
stretched  lifeless  on  the  field  of  slaughter,  and  the 
wounded  were  so  numerous  that  it  was  necessary 
to  distribute  them  among  all  the  neighbouring 
towns.  This  carnage  gained  for  the  spot  where  it 
occurred  the  name  of  the  Russian  burying-ground. 
It  is  an  almost  miraculous  circumstance  that  the 
loss  sustained  by  the  Dantzickers  did  not  exceed 
forty  killed  and  twice  as  many  wounded. 

France  had  strenuously  encouraged  the  citizens 
to  rally  around  Stanislaus,  and  had  promised  ready 
and  powerful  aid  ;  but  the  meanness  of  her  per- 
formance  contrasted  curiously  with  the  magnifi- 
cence of  her  promises.  At  the  moment  when 
Dantzic  was  beleaguered  by  fifty  thousand  Saxons 
and  Muscovites,  she  sent  a  paltry  detachment  of 
fifteen  hundred  men  to  its  succour.  On  the  llth 
of  May,  the  French  troops,  led  by  Count  de  hi 
Motte,  were  disembarked  under  Fort  Weichsel- 
munde,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Vistula.  The  govern- 
or of  the  fort,  however,  refused  to  admit  them,  on 
the  plea  that  he  was  short  of  provisions,  upon  which 
De  la  Motte  re-embarked  his  men,  and  sailed  back 
to  Copenhagen.  The  Count  de  Plelo,  a  man  equal- 
ly distinguished  for  valour  and  intellectual  powers, 
was  then  ambassador  from  France  to  Denmark. 
Stung  to  the  quick  by  the  disgrace  which  he  con- 
ceived the  retreat  of  De  la  Motte  to  have  brought 
upon  his  country,  he  determined  at  all  hazards  to 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1NSKI.        237 

wipe  off  the  stain.  Convinced  that  he  should  per* 
ish  in  the  attempt,  he  wrote  to  the  minister  for  for 
eiga  affairs,  expressing  a  hope  that  the  royal  kind, 
ness  would  be  extended  to  his  wife  and  children. 
With  the  addition  of  a  hundred  volunteers  to  the 
original  force,  he  effected  a  landing  on  the  27th  of 
May,  and  attacked  the  Russian  intrenchments  with 
such  impetuosity  that  he  drove  the  enemy  before 
him  in  disorder.  He  had  nearly  reached  the  city 
when  he  fell,  pierced  with  many  wounds.  Borne 
down  by  multitudes,  his  gallant  band  was  compell- 
ed to  retire,  but  it  succeeded  in  securing  its  retreat 
under  the  cannon  of  Fort  Weichselmunde. 

The  affairs  of  the  Dantzickers  now  wore  a 
gloomy  aspect.  The  city  was  suffering  greatly 
from  the  bombardment,  provisions  were  becoming 
scarce,  a  Russian  fleet  of  seven-and.twenty  sail 
had  anchored  off  the  mouth  of  the  Vistula,  and  the 
besieging  general,  by  dint  of  sacrificing  men,  had 
carried  several  posts  which  were  important  in 
maintaining  the  communication  between  the  town 
and  the  sea.  Yet  the  citizens  persisted  in  adhe- 
ring to  Stanislaus ;  there  was  no  talk  of  yielding. 
While  Fort  Weichselmunde  remained  in  their  pow- 
er, they  could  still  expect  to  receive  succours.  Of 
that  resource,  however,  they  were  soon  deprived. 
The  siege  of  Fort  Weichselmunde  was  regularly 
commenced  on  the  17th  of  June  by  the  Duke  of 
Saxe.Weissenfels  ;  and,  before  any  impression  had 
been  made  upon  the  works,  the  governor,  either  a 
coward  or  a  traitor,  surrendered  his  important 
charge. 

As  long  as  there  existed  the  slightest  prospect 
that  their  resistance  would  be  triumphant,  Stanis. 


238  PC.  KILO  US    ADVENTURES. 

laus  had  deemed  it  a  duty  to  stand  by  those  who 
had  so  nobly  supported  his  cause,  and  to  stimulate 
their  exertions  to  the  utmost.  But  the  shameful 
surrender  of  the  Fort  of  Weichselmunde  had  anni. 
hilated  all  hope.  He  therefore  felt  that  it  would 
be  only  cruelty  to  expose  them  to  the  blind  rage  of 
the  base  and  brutal  hordes  by  which  they  were 
besieged.  He  knew  that  his  remaining  in  the  city 
would  have  no  other  effect  than  to  expose  his  own  life 
without  a  chance  of  benefit,  and  to  bring  tenfold 
peril  upon  the  high-spirited  Dantzickers,  who  were 
willing  to  make  every  sacrifice  for  his  sake.  Such 
being  the  case,  he  advised  them  to  enter  into  a  ca- 
pitulation while  there  was  yet  time  for  claiming 
tolerable  conditions.  The  citizens  heard  with  pro- 
found grief  the  communication  from  him  to  this  ef- 
fect, which  was  made  to  the  town-council  by  Prince 
Czartoriski  and  Count  Poniatowski.  An  affecting 
incident  occurred  on  this  occasion,  which  proves 
how  much  he  was  beloved.  When  the  prince  had 
delivered  the  royal  message,  one  of  the  deputies, 
named  Hinniber,  approached  him  and  said,  "  Are 
you  speaking  seriously,  sir  ?  Are  these  really  the 
sentiments  of  our  sovereign  ?"  "  They  are,"  re- 
plied Poniatowski ;  "  I  have  heard  from  his  own 
lips  all  that  I  have  told  you."  "  What !  is  it  the 
king  himself  who  exhorts  us  to  submit  to  the  yoke 
of  the  victor  1"  "  It  is  indeed  so,"  answered  the 
prince.  "  Gracious  God  !"  exclaimed  Hinniber, 
M  our  king  will  quit  us  !  and  what  is  to  become  of 
him  !"  The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth 
when  he  staggered,  uttered  a  few  indistinct  sounds, 
and  fell  dead  at  Poniatowski's  feet. 

The  situation  of  Stanislaus  was  indeed  fraught 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSK,.         239 

with  peril.  The  Russians  were  eager  to  get  him 
into  their  hands  ;  in  their  imperious  summonses  to 
the  Dantzickers,  his  being  delivered  up  had  been 
insisted  upon  as  a  first  and  indispensable  condition. 
If  he  fell  into  their  power,  there  was  little  reason 
to  believe  that  his  fate  would  be  a  mild  one ;  and 
yet  to  effect  his  escape  seemed  almost  impossible. 
There  was  no  egress  by  sea;  every  avenue  by 
land,  too,  was  closely  watched ;  and  on  that  side 
the  fugitive  must  make  his  way  through  a  laby- 
rinth of  circumvallating  lines,  inundations,  marshes, 
and  narrow  and  intricate  passes.  The  latter,  how- 
ever,  beset  as  it  was  with  difficulties,  was  the  only 
resource. 

Various  plans  for  eluding  his  enemies  were  sug- 
gested.  Unappalled  by  the  risk  of  being  consigned 
to  Siberia,  the  Countess  of  Czapska,  a  Polish  lady, 
in  this  emergency  courageously  offered  her  servi- 
ces. She  proposed  to  disguise  herself  and  the 
king  in  the  garb  of  peasants,  and  to  pass  him  off 
as  her  husband ;  and  she  had  secured  the  assist- 
ance of  a  trusty  person  who  was  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  the  surrounding  country.  The  dan- 
ger  to  which  she  would  be  exposed  probably  pre- 
vented this  scheme  from  being  adopted  by  the 
monarch. 

Another  project,  more  consonant  to  the  chival 
rous  spirit  of  Stanislaus,  we  may  suppose  to  have 
been  conceived  by  some  gallant  soldier.  It  was, 
that  the  king  should  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a 
hundred  men,  and  break  through  the  besieging  ar- 
my. There  was  no  lack  of  men  willing  to  peril 
their  lives  in  this  adventure  ;  but  the  scheme  was 
more  daring  than  feasible.  In  one  quarter  the  in 


240  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

undation  extended  to  a  distance  of  three  leagues, 
and  in  the  other  every  outlet  was  closed  by  the 
lines  of  circumvallation,  which  it  was  not  practi- 
cable to  traverse  on  horseback.  Such  a  sally 
would  have  been  of  sufficient  magnitude  to  rouse 
against  it  a  considerable  Russian  force,  and  too 
weak  to  obtain  even  the  momentary  success  which 
might  have  made  an  opening  for  the  royal  leader's 
escape.  The  idea  of  it  was  consequently  aban- 
doned. 

A  plan  for  leaving  Dantzic  in  the  disguise  of  a 
peasant,  which  was  formed  by  the  Marquis  de  Mon- 
ti, the  French  ambassador,  was  at  length  acceded 
to  by  Stanislaus.  To  carry  it  into  execution,  he 
removed  to  the  house  of  the  ambassador,  under 
pretext  of  wishing  to  pass  a  quiet  night,  the  bom. 
bardment  having  recommenced  on  that  part  of  the 
town  where  he  resided.  The  greatest  part  of  his 
rustic  dress  had  already  been  provided.  A  worn- 
out  suit  of  clothes,  a  hat  no  better,  a  coarse  shirt, 
and  a  rough  black-thorn  cudgel,  with  a  leather 
thong  through  it,  were  easily  procured.  But  there 
was  one  thing,  absolutely  necessary,  which  the 
marquis  was  puzzled  how  to  obtain.  This  was  a 
pair  of  boots  ;  an  article  always  worn  by  the  peas- 
ants in  that  neighbourhood.  New  boots  were  to 
be  had  in  plenty ;  but  it  would  have  been  impru- 
dent  to  use  such,  as  the  doing  so  might  in  more 
ways  than  one  lead  to  a  discovery.  After  having 
for  two  days  keenly  scrutinized  the  leg-coverings 
of  the  officers  who  visited  him,  the  marquis  thought 
he  saw  a  pair  of  boots  large  enough  for  the  king, 
and  old  enough  to  match  with  the  rest  of  the  equip, 
ment.  As  his  asking  for  them  might  awaken  sus- 


STANISLAUS    LECZINSKI.  241 

picion  in  the  owner,  and  thus  endanger  the  secret, 
he  contrived  to  have  them  stolen.  It  was  not  till 
within  half  an  hour  of  the  time  fixed  on  for  the  de- 
parture of  the  royal  fugitive  that  the  boots  were 
brought ;  and,  when  they  came  to  be  tried  on,  it 
iras  found  that  the  robbery  had  been  committed  in 
rain,  as  they  were  far  too  small.  The  ambassa- 
dor  was  exceedingly  embarrassed,  till,  by  great 
good  luck,  a  pair  of  boots  which  seemed  made  for 
the  purpose  was  furnished  by  one  of  his  servants. 
*'  This  fortunate  circumstance,"  says  Stanislaus, 
*•  revived  his  spirits  ;  and  I  jokingly  reproached 
him  with  having  so  long  meditated  a  sort  of  crime, 
to  get  from  a  distance  what  he  might  without  dif- 
ficulty have  obtained  at  home." 

It  was  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  27th  of 
June  that  the  king  took  leave  of  the  French  am- 
bassador. The  marquis  had  been  so  deeply  af. 
fected  on  their  separating,  that  the  kind-hearted 
monarch  could  not  refrain  from  turning  back  be. 
fore  he  left  the  house  in  order  to  cheer  him  by  a 
sally  of  pleasantry,  which  was  meant  to  show  that 
his  own  spirits  were  unbroken.  He  ended  serious- 
ly by  saying,  "  I  returned  to  embrace  you  once 
more,  and  to  beg  that  you  will  resign  yourself,  as 
I  do,  to  Providence,  to  which  I  entirely  commit  my 
fate."  He  then  departed. 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  ambassador's  man- 
sion, Stanislaus  was  joined  by  General  Steinflicht, 
also  disguised  as  a  peasant,  who  was  to  be  one  of 
the  companions  of  his  flight.  A  major  was  in 
waiting  to  conduct  them  to  a  part  of  the  rampart, 
at  the  foot  of  which  were  two  small  skiffs,  contain- 
ing three  men  who  were  to  serve  as  guides.  Af- 

24-16 


242  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ter  they  had  crossed  the  moat,  the  major  went  lor 
ward  to  clear  the  way  for  them  through  an  out 
post,  in  which  were  a  few  soldiers  commanded  by 
a  sergeant.  The  sergeant,  however,  ignorant  of 
the  king's  intention,  refused  to  permit  them  to  go 
on,  and  even  levelled  his  musket  at  the  major,  who 
was  so  irritated  that  he  more  than  once  grasped 
his  pistol,  and  was  on  the  point  of  shooting  him. 
But,  reflecting  that  the  soldiers  would  certainly  re- 
venge the  death  of  their  officer,  and  that  a  struggle 
would  frustrate  the  scheme  and  endanger  the 
monarch,  he  reluctantly  resolved  to  confide  his 
secret  to  the  sergeant.  On  the  king  making  him- 
self known,  he  was  treated  with  great  respect, 
and  allowed  to  proceed.  This  untoward  circum- 
stance he  could  scarcely  help  looking  upon  as  an 
unfavourable  omen,  for  it  was  not  unreasonable  to 
entertain  doubts  as  to  the  safe  keeping  of  the  se- 
cret with  which  the  sergeant  had  been  intrusted. 

On  parting  from  the  major,  the  king  again  em- 
barked in  a  little  boat  with  his  guides,  hoping  that 
before  break  of  day  he  should  be  able  to  cross  the 
Vistula  and  get  beyond  the  Russian  line  of  posts. 
To  his  extreme  surprise  and  vexation,  however, 
they  had  not  gone  more  than  half  a  mile  before 
they  stopped  at  a  wretched  hut,  in  the  midst  of 
swamp,  where  he  was  told  he  must  remain  for  thai, 
night  and  the  whole  of  the  next  day.  He  repre- 
sented to  them  the  danger  of  halting  almost  under 
the  eyes  of  his  enemies,  who  must  soon  be  aware 
of  his  flight,  and  would  make  strict  search  for  him. 
They  were,  however,  obstinately  deaf  to  his  argu- 
ments,  and,  as  it  would  have  been  impolitic  to  ex- 
asperate them,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  yield. 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        243 

<ng.  The  hut  consisted  of  only  a  single  room,  in 
which  there  was  not  a  spot  where  he  could  repose ; 
6ut  this  was  of  little  consequence,  for,  in  his  situa- 
tion, he  '*ad  not  the  will,  nor,  indeed,  the  power  to 
sleep. 

To  while  away  the  time,  Stanislaus  studied  the 
character  of  his  companions,  and  the  result  was 
by  no  means  calculated  to  inspire  him  with  confi- 
dence. The  leader  was  a  self-sufficient,  petulant 
blunderer  and  braggadocio,  profoundly  ignorant, 
yet  resenting  as  a  sort  of  rebellion  any  dissent 
from  his  opinions  or  orders.  Lured  by  the  offer 
of  a  large  reward,  he  had  described  himself  to  the 
Marquis  de  Monti  as  being  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  environs  of  Dantzic,  though,  in  fact,  he 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  Russian  posts.  The 
two  men  who  were  subordinate  to  this  delectable 
guide  were  a  sort  of  freebooters,  known  in  Ger- 
many by  the  name  of  Schnapans ;  and  their  coarse 
and  ferocious  manners,  in  unison  with  their  calling, 
could  excite  only  disgust  and  apprehension.  They 
had,  however,  a  much  better  knowledge  of  the 
country  than  was  possessed  by  their  superior. 
There  was  a  fourth  in  company,  a  man  whom  they 
had  taken  in  near  the  rampart,  and  whom  the  mon- 
arch had  not  expected,  he  having  been  told  that  he 
was  to  have  but  three  guides.  When  this  person- 
age was  questioned  by  Stanislaus,  he  did  not  con- 
ceal  that  he  knew  him,  and  candidly  confessed, 
also,  that  he  was  a  bankrupt  shopkeeper  of  Dant. 
zic  who  was  flying  from  his  creditors.  This  was 
alarming  intelligence  to  the  monarch,  his  secret 
being  at  the  mercy  of  a  ruined  and,  perhaps,  dis- 
honest man,  who  might  at  once  acquire  a  splendid 


244  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

fortune  by  betraying  it.  But,  though  hit  fear* 
were  justifiable,  they  were  groundless ;  the  unfor- 
tunate debtor  himself  ultimately  proved  to  be  inca- 
pable of  such  an  act  of  baseness. 

In  the  morning  the  king  went  to  the  door  of  the 
hut  to  breathe  the  fresh  air.  The  sight  which  met 
his  eyes  filled  his  heart  with  grief.  Before  him 
was  the  faithful  Dantzic,  its  ramparts  tottering, 
and  its  houses  blazing,  from  the  constant  cannonade 
and  bombardment  kept  up  by  the  Russian  batteries. 
'*  This,  then,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  is  the  recom- 
pense of  its  fidelity  !  Perhaps  even  this  very  day 
it  may  be  given  into  the  hands  of  my  enemies,  and 
be  doomed  to  ransom  itself  from  misfortunes  which 
it  can  no  longer  endure,  by  new  misfortunes  which 
will  complete  its  ruin."  He  had  scarcely  re-enter- 
ed the  hut  when  a  fresh  wound  was  indicted  on  his 
feelings.  A  salvo  was  fired  from  all  the  batteries 
of  the  camp,  and  from  the  blockading  squadron,  and 
this  convinced  him  that  the  city  had  been  entered 
by  the  Russians.  This,  however,  was  not  yet  the 
case.  In  Dantzic  great  consternation  was  ex. 
cited  by  the  firing :  the  Marquis  de  Monti  supposed 
it  to  indicate  that  the  king  had  been  captured,  while 
the  citizens  declared  that  it  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  assault.  It  was  at  length  found  to  be  onl) 
a  mark  of  rejoicing,  ordered  by  Marshal  Munich. 
the  Russian  leader,  on  his  receiving  envoys  from 
the  citizens,  with  an  offer  to  recognise  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  as  sovereign  of  Poland. 

The  danger  of  Stanislaus  was  now  much  in- 
creased. He  had  at  the  outset  calculated  that,  if 
not  stopped,  he  should  by  this  time  be  in  safety  on 
the  Russia?  territory.  Instead  of  this,  he  was  still 


STANISLAUS    LECZINSKI.  246 

e»ose  to  the  city,  and  had  every  reason  to  believe 
that  his  adversaries  must  be  aware  of  his  flight, 
and  that,  of  course,  they  would  redouble  their  effort* 
to  arrest  him.  At  this  painful  moment  there  oc- 
curred a  fresh  cause  for  alarm.  A  Schnapan  came 
to  the  hut  in  his  boat,  bringing  to  General  Stein- 
flicht  a  present  of  two  dried  tongues,  and  a  polite 
note  wishing  the  travellers  a  prosperous  journey. 
The  note  was  anonymous,  and  no  persuasion  could 
induce  the  Schnapan  to  reveal  who  had  sent  it,  or 
how  he  had  contrived  to  discover  their  retreaU 
That  they  should  dread  lest  he  might  disclose  his 
interview  with  them  was  not  unnatural. 

After  having  spent  in  the  hut  a  day  which  sus- 
pense and  anxiety  seemed  to  make  endless,  the 
monarch  rejoiced  when  darkness  allowed  him  to 
resume  his  journey.  Their  progress  now  became 
much  more  difficult  and  hazardous.  The  boat  had 
to  be  forced  through  a  forest  of  stiff  rushes,  which 
made  such  a  rustling  that  the  sound  could  be  heard 
to  a  considerable  distance.  It  was  to  be  feared, 
also,  that  the  reeds,  which  were  broken  or  bent 
down,  would  next  morning  betray  the  course  which 
the  fugitives  had  taken.  Nor  were  the  reeds  their 
•nly  annoyance.  In  many  places  the  shallowness 
of  the  water  would  not  allow  them  to  move  on,  and 
they  had  to  get  out  into  the  mud,  and  by  main 
strength  remove  the  skiff  to  a  spot  where  there  was 
t ufficient  depth  for  it  to  float. 

About  midnight  they  reached  the  bank  of  a  river 
which  the  king  supposed  to  be  the  Vistula,  but 
which  proved  to  be  one  of  its  tributaries.  His 
guides  here  held  a  conference,  in  which  they  re- 
solved that  their  leader,  the  shopkeeper,  and  Gen- 


246  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

eral  Steinfiicht,  should  tiavei  along  the  tauseway 
on  the  bank,  to  seek  a  road  by  land,  while  the  king 
and  the  two  Schnapans  should  proceed  in  a  paral- 
lel line  in  the  boat,  through  the  marsh.  It  was 
with  great  reluctance  that  the  king  separated  from 
the  general,  and  he  saw  him  no  more  during  the 
journey,  for  in  the  darkness  the  two  parties  lost 
sight  of  each  other,  and  took  different  directions. 

It  must  be  kept  in  mind  that  it  was  now  the 
middle  of  summer,  and  that,  consequently,  there 
was  little  more  than  four  hours  of  night  in  which 
Stanislaus  could  venture  to  continue  his  course. 
Again,  therefore,  his  conductors  were  obliged  to 
look  out  for  a  hiding-place,  and  one  was  found  in 
the  neighbouring  cabin  of  a  man  with  whom  they 
were  acquainted.  They  were  told,  indeed,  that 
the  Russians  often  came  there  in  the  daytime ;  but, 
as  there  was  no  other  refuge  at  hand,  the  danger 
must  of  necessity  be  encountered.  The  king  was 
hurried  up  into  a  kind  of  loft  by  his  guides,  who 
left  him  to  rest  himself  on  a  bundle  of  straw,  while 
they  went  to  keep  watch,  and  likewise  to  try  if  they 
could  discover  the  general  and  their  companions. 

For  two  nights  Stanislaus  had  had  no  rest,  yet 
he  now  tried  in  vain  to  sleep.  His  boots  were  full 
of  mud  and  water,  and  his  mind  was  disturbed  by 
the  loss  of  his  friend,  the  suspicions  he  felt  with 
respect  to  his  conductors,  and  the  probability  that 
the  Russians  would  arrive.  "  I  got  up,"  says  he* 
"  and,  on  looking  out  at  the  loophole  in  the  loft,  I 
saw  a  Russian  officer  gravely  pacing  about  the 
meadow,  and  two  soldiers  who  were  pasturing 
their  horses  there.  The  sight  took  away  my 
breath.  The  thoughtful  air  of  the  man,  who 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        247 

•eetned  to  be  scheming  something;  the  horses, 
which  he  repeatedly  approached,  as  though  he  were 
impatient  to  make  use  of  them  ;  those  armed  sol- 
diers, and  their  appearance  in  a  spot  which  was 
remote  from  their  camp,  all  made  me  fear  that  I 
had  fallen  into  the  snare  which  I  had  taken  so 
much  pains  to  avoid.  There  is  something  more- 
valuable  than  courage,  and  I  was  then  near  losing 
it;  I  mean  the  hope  which  supports  courage,  and 
which  frequently  inspires  it.  My  alarm  was  great- 
ly  increased  when,  about  one  hundred  paces  far- 
ther on,  I  saw  several  Cossacks  galloping  at  full 
speed  along  the  fields.  They  were  approaching 
the  wretched  shelter  in  which  I  had  hoped  to  find 
more  security  than  anywhere  else.  This  unex- 
pected sight  made  me  draw  back  from  the  win- 
dow. I  threw  myself  on  my  bundle  of  straw,  and 
could  think  of  nothing  but  how  to  escape,  if  that 
were  possible,  from  the  troop  which  surrounded 
me.  I  fully  expected  to  see  the  house  instantly 
invested.  They  did  more;  for,  without  wasting 
time  in  a  blockade,  they  at  once  made  themselves 
masters  of  it,  and  I  almost  directly  heard  footsteps 
ascending  to  my  retreat." 

The  fears  of  Stanislaus,  however,  were  not  re- 
alized. When  the  door  was  opened,  it  was  not 
the  Russians  who  entered,  but  his  hostess.  The 
Schnapans  were  just  returned  from  their  search, 
and  had  sent  her  to  desire  that  he  would  make  no 
noise.  The  Russians  had  only  halted  to  breakfast, 
and  at  the  expiration  of  two  hours  they  took  their 
departure.  While  they  remained  the  king  could 
hear  all  their  conversation,  which  was  of  the  most 
brutal  and  disgusting  kind  ;  they  were  wretches 


248  PKRILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

dead  to  virtue  and  shame,  who  vied  with  each  oth- 
er in  boasting  of  deeds  which  disgraced  human 
nature. 

No  sooner  were  they  out  of  sight  than  his  host- 
ess revisited  him :  she  was  burning  with  curios- 
ity to  learn  the  mystery  of  her  concealed  guest. 
"  Well !  they  are  gone  at  last,"  she  exclaimed ; 
"  but  tell  me  why  you  are  thus  obliged  to  keep  out 
of  their  way.  Why  did  you  not  come  to  drink 
and  amuse  yourself  with  your  comrades?  Who 
are  you,  in  short,  and  where  do  you  come  from  ? 
You  certainly  do  not  belong  to  this  country;  I 
know  that  by  your  language ;  and,  besides,  your 
countenance  bespeaks  in  you  something  which  con- 
tradicts  your  dress.  Speak  :  explain  yourself:  I 
will  not  betray  you,  and,  really,  from  your  manner, 
which  affects  me  extremely,  I  feel  inclined  to  do 
you  service."  This  was  fair  speaking,  and  might 
be  sincere ;  but  her  imprudence  might  be  as  fatal 
to  him  as  perfidy,  and  Stanislaus  could  not  venture 
to  trust  to  her.  Failing  to  obtain  the  desired  in- 
formation,  she  began  to  form  guesses,  none  of 
which  came  nigh  the  truth.  He,  however,  allowed 
her  to  suppose  that  she  had  partly  fathomed  his 
secret.  Here  her  thoughts  took  another  turn :  cu- 
riosity was  succeeded  by  fear.  "But,"  said  she, 
"  if  you  are  on  such  bad  terms  with  the  Muscovites, 
I  must  beg  you  to  go  away.  If  they  were  to  dis- 
cover you  here,  I  should  be  ruined ;  perhaps  they 
would  even  burn  my  house."  She  was  so  possess- 
ed with  this  idea,  that  it  was  with  no  small  difficuU 
ty  he  quieted  her,  and  avoided  being  turned  out  of 
doors. 

During  the  day  Stanislaus  continued  stretched 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1NSKJ.         249 

on  his  bundle  of  straw,  a  prey  to  his  own  torment, 
ing  reflections.  The  very  inaction  to  which  he 
was  reduced  was  itself  an  additional  and  heavy 
evil.  "  Towards  night,"  he  says, "  quite  weary  of 
my  situation,  I  went  down  to  make  inquiries  of  my 
conductors.  They  said  they  knew  that  General 
Steinflicht  was  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  league 
off,  and  that  he  intended  to  join  us  at  night  on  the 
bank  of  the  Vistula,  where  a  boat  was  waiting  to 
take  us  over ;  but  they  were  doubtful  whether,  with 
so  violent  a  wind  as  was  then  blowing,  the  passage 
could  be  effected,  and  particularly  in  a  boat  so 
small,  and  in  such  bad  condition,  as  that  which 
they  had  procured.  'Let  us  make  the  attempt, 
nevertheless,'  said  I, '  for  I  can  imagine  no  greater 
danger  than  staying  longer  where  we  are.'  It 
would  not  have  become  me  to  persist  in  distrusting 
these  men,  who,  having  eaten  and  drunk  with  my 
enemies,  had  preferred  my  safety  to  their  own  in- 
terests, and  who,  amid  the  fumes  of  tobacco,  and 
drinking  a  kind  of  beer  well  calculated  to  confuse 
their  senses,  had  still  had  courage  and  honour 
enough  to  preserve  the  fidelity  which  they  had 
promised  me.  They  also  adopted  with  a  good  will 
the  proposition  I  made  to  them.  Accordingly,  at 
nightfall  we  re-entered  the  boat,  which,  however, 
we  quitted  at  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  league, 
where  the  inundation  terminated.  For  some  hours 
we  travelled  on  foot,  almost  continually  over  soft 
and  muddy  ground,  into  which  we  sank  up  to  our 
knees,  and  were  every  moment  obliged  to  give 
help  to  each  other.  Very  often  our  efforts  only 
served  to  plunge  us  still  deeper  into  this  miry  soil, 
and  to  increase  the  danger  of  never  getting  out  of  it. 


260  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

"At  last  we  reached  the  bank  of  the  Vistola, 
and  one  of  the  Schnapans  begged  me  to  wait  a 
moment  with  his  comrade,  while  he  went  to  see 
whether  the  boat  was  at  the  place  appointed.  Af- 
ter having  kept  us  in  suspense  for  a  full  hour,  he 
came  back  with  news  that  the  boat  was  no  longer 
there,  and  that  probably  it  had  been  carried  off  by 
the  Russians.  There  was  nothing  left  for  us  but 
to  re-enter  the  marsh  which  we  had  so  recently 
quitted.  We  took  another  route,  and  after  a  walk  of 
a  league  by  a  road  as  bad  as  that  which  we  before 
had  traversed,  we  selected  as  our  asylum  a  house 
in  which  I  was  instantly  recognised.  *  Who  do  I 
see !'  exclaimed  the  host,  as  soon  as  he  looked 
upon  me.  '  Why,  you  see  one  of  my  comrades.' 
replied  my  conductors ;  '  what  is  there  so  wonder- 
ful in  his  appearance  ?'  *  Oh  no  ! '  rejoined  the 
man,  'I  am  not  mistaken;  it  is  King  Stanislaus.' 
•  Yes,  my  friend,'  said  I  to  him,  in  a  firm  and  confi- 
dent  tone,  '  I  am  he ;  but  your  countenance  tells 
me  that  you  are  too  worthy  a  man  to  refuse  me 
the  succour  which  I  want  in  my  present  situation.' " 

The  king  was  not  mistaken  in  the  judgment 
which  he  had  formed  of  the  person  whom  he  thus 
addressed.  The  man  was  a  frank,  honourable, 
warm-hearted  being,  who  probably  would  have 
been  angered  by  an  attempt  to  deceive  him,  but 
who  was  won  by  the  generous  reliance  which  was 
reposed  on  his  integrity.  Ho  promised  to  procure 
a  boat  to  carry  the  monarch  across  the  Vistula, 
and  he  kept  his  word.  He  immediately  set  out  to 
search  for  one,  and  also  to  examine  on  what  part  of 
the  bank  their  embarcation  would  be  leasf  exposed 
to  danger. 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        251 

While  -by  looking  out  of  the  window  the  king 
was  ineffectually  trying  to  divert  his  mind  from 
melancholy  thoughts,  he  perceived  the  chief  of  the 
conductors  approaching  the  house.  The  first  ques- 
tion put  by  him  was  with  respect  to  General  Stein- 
flicht.  "  We  were  at  the  place  of  rendezvous  on 
the  bank  of  the  Vistula  last  night,"  replied  the 
peasant,  "and  were  impatiently  expecting  you, 
when  we  saw  a  troop  of  Cossacks  coming  towards 
us.  As  we  were  not  strong  enough  to  make  head 
against  them,  and  there  was  no  spot  where  we 
could  hide  ourselves,  I  took  to  my  heels,  and  no 
doubt  the  same  step  was  taken  by  the  shopkeeper 
and  the  general."  These  tidings,  which  rendered 
it  probable  that  Steinflicht  was  a  prisoner,  gave 
much  vexation  to  Stanislaus. 

In  a  few  hours  the  host  returned.  His  intelli- 
gence  was  discouraging.  He  had  indeed  found  a 
boat,  but  it  belonged  to  a  fisherman  in  whose  house 
two  Russians  were  at  present  lodging.  He  there- 
fore recommended  that  the  attempt  to  pass  should 
not  be  hazarded  immediately.  Besides,  there  was 
another  reason  which  was  still  stronger  for  delay. 
Swarms  of  Cossacks  were  spread  about  the  envi- 
rons ;  some  watching  the  horses  which  were  pas- 
tured in  the  fields,  and  others  scouring  the  country, 
with  orders  to  track  the  monarch,  and  to  seize  him 
wherever  he  might  be  found.  The  latter  were  so 
eager  in  the  pursuit  that  they  stopped  all  passen- 
gers indiscriminately,  searched  and  questioned 
them,  and  insisted  on  passports  being  produced,  or 
some  person  in  the  neighbourhood  coming  forward 
to  vouch  for  the  individual  thus  detained.  Every 
man  who  in  size,  stature,  or  age  bore  the  slightest 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

resemblance  to  Stanislaus,  whatever  might  be  hit 
dress  or  condition,  was  still  more  strictly  examined. 
This  being  the  case,  it  was  decided  that  the  fugitive 
should  remain  closely  concealed  in  his  host's  house 
for  that  night  and  the  following  day. 

"  On  the  next  day,  Thursday,  July  the  1st,"  says 
the  king,  "  I  assembled  my  people  to  take  their 
opinion  on  the  important  affair  of  the  passage, 
which  lay  so  near  my  heart.  We  examined  all  the 
spots  where  it  might  be  attempted  with  a  chance 
of  safety.  The  advice  of  my  conductors  was  more 
or  less  bold,  their  views  were  more  or  less  rational, 
according  as  a  brandy. bottle,  which  stood  in  the 
midst  of  them,  was  more  or  less  full :  it  was  the 
bottle  which  presided,  and  regulated  their  delibera- 
tions. At  first  nothing  but  timid  opinions  were  to 
be  heard.  No  possible  means  were  to  be  found  of 
crossing  the  river ;  the  hope  of  the  great  reward 
which  had  been  promised  them  vanished  from  their 
sight,  and,  instead  of  it,  they  could  see  nothing  but 
prisons,  tortures,  and  gibbets.  A  fresh  supply  of 
liquor  insensibly  raised  their  sunken  courage,  and 
I  could  see  the  moment  at  hand  when  they  would 
brave  the  whole  Russian  camp,  and  fearlessly  lead 
me  through  the  fire  of  a  thousand  batteries.  I 
kept  things  in  a  proper  medium  by  the  care  which 
I  took  to  hold  possession  of  the  bottle,  and  to  pro. 
portion  to  each  the  dose  of  courage  which  he  re- 
quired." 

While  this  burlesque  sort  of  council  waa  sitting, 
the  host  was  more  usefully  employed  in  reconnoi- 
tring. He  returned  about  six  o'clock,  and  brought 
the  joyful  news  that  the  Cossacks  had  withdrawn 
from  the  neighbourhood,  that  the  passage  wan 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1XSKI.        253 

free,  and  that  a  boat  was  ready  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  at  about  the  distance  of  a  league.  As 
soon  as  it  was  dark  the  whole  party  set  forward. 
Stanislaus  and  his  host  were  on  horseback ;  the 
three  peasants  brought  up  the  rear  on  foot.  They 
had  to  traverse  several  swampy  places,  in  which 
the  king's  horse,  a  broken-down  animal,  stumbled 
at  every  step.  On  all  sides  they  could  see  the  fires 
of  the  enemy's  flying  camps ;  these  lighted  them 
on  their  way,  and  served  as  beacons  to  warn  them 
of  danger.  They  had  advanced  half  a  league,  when 
the  host,  who  led  the  van,  rode  back  to  desire  that 
they  would  halt  while  he  examined  a  suspicious 
spot.  He  returned  in  haste,  with  the  disagreeable 
tidings  that  it  was  occupied  by  a  new  troop  of  Cos- 
sacks, from  whom  he  had  escaped  only  by  telling 
them  that  he  had  been  with  provisions  to  their  army, 
and  was  now  seeking  some  of  his  cattle  which  had 
strayed  from  the  field  where  he  had  pastured  them. 
The  spurious  courage  which  the  three  guides 
had  imbibed  from  the  brandy-bottle  had  by  this 
time  evaporated.  On  hearing  what  was  said,  they 
consulted  together,  and  declared  that  they  would 
instantly  go  back.  Stanislaus,  however,  resolutely 
opposed  them.  But  it  was  to  no  purpose  that  he 
advised  them  either  to  force  their  way  if  the  Cos- 
sacks  were  few  in  number,  or  to  resort  to  the  strat- 
agem which  had  availed  the  host.  Fear  had  com- 
pletely  unmanned  them.  The  indefatigable  host 
now  went  again  to  see  whether  some  by-path  could 
not  be  discovered,  and  they,  meanwhile,  lay  grovel, 
ling  on  the  ground.  "But  their  chief,  the  man," 
says  Stanislaus,  "  who  had  recently  appeared  so 
bold,  started  up  a  moment  after  and  incited  his 


254  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

comrades  to  fly  with  him.  '  What,  you  cowards  !* 
exclaimed  I,  '  do  you  mean  to  desert  me  V  '  Good 
God !'  said  they  all  at  once,  and  as  if  they  spoke 
in  concert,  '  do  you  wish  us  to  get  hanged,  to  se- 
cure for  yourself  an  escape  which  does  not  depend 
upon  us  V  '  Hanged  or  not,'  replied  I,  in  a  pre- 
tended passion, '  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  deliberate ; 
you  have  engaged  to  attend  me,  and  you  shall  not 
leave  me  till  I  think  I  can  do  without  your  rascally 
company.  Now  hearken  to  me,  and  tremble  at  the 
resolution  which  you  force  me  to  take.  If  neither 
your  promises,  nor  your  oaths,  nor  the  reward 
which  you  expect,  nor  the  respect  which  you  owe 
me,  nor  anything  else  can  stop  you,  I  will  this  very 
moment  call  the  Cossacks  here  ;  for,  if  I  must  per- 
ish by  your  flight,  I  would  as  lief  perish  by  my 
own  indiscretion,  and,  at  the  same  time,  revenge 
myself  for  your  treachery.'  This  threat  had  the 
desired  effect ;  the  poltroons  remained  where  they 
were." 

The  host  was  soon  back  again,  and  he  was  the 
bearer  of  welcome  news ;  the  Cossacks  were  gone. 
The  three  prostrate  cowards  instantly  jumped  up ; 
and,  with  an  effrontery  that  was  laughable,  their 
leader  began  to  protest  that  they  had  never  meant 
to  abscond,  and  he  talked  largely  about  their  tried 
fidelity.  A  contemptuous  glance  from  the  mon- 
arch, and  a  few  emphatic  words,  reduced  him  to  si- 
lence.  The  march  was  now  recommenced ;  and 
the  three  peasants  gave  proof  of  their  zeal  by  fol- 
lowing at  such  a  distance  that  it  was  manifest  they 
intended  to  run  away  at  the  earliest  appearance  of 
danger.  Stanislaus  and  his  host  now  quitted  their 
horses,  and  proceeded  some  distance  on  foot,  till 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        255 

ihey  came  to  the  river's  bank.  The  latter  went 
to  fetch  a  boat,  and  the  king,  meanwhile,  was  obli- 
ged to  keep  himself  out  of  sight  by  crouching 
among  the  bushes.  The  three  loiterers  were  the 
first  to  hear  the  dash  of  oars,  and  they  quickened 
their  pace  that  they  might  not  be  left  behind.  The 
whole  party  embarked,  and  the  long-desired  pas- 
sage of  the  Vistula  was  at  length  accomplished  in 
safety. 

"  We  were  about  to  land,  when,  taking  my  host 
aside,  and  with  the  warmest  affection  thanking  him 
for  all  that  he  had  done  for  me,  I  put  into  his  hand, 
from  my  pocket,  as  many  ducats  as  I  could  grasp. 
This  was  an  excellent  opportunity  to  relieve  my. 
self  from  a  weight  of  money  which  was  perpetually 
troublesome  to  me.  Besides,  I  thought  myself  less 
conferring  a  favour  than  discharging  a  debt.  The 
honest  peasant,  surprised  and  almost  ashamed, 
drew  back,  and  tried  to  get  away  from  me.  '  No  ! 
no !'  said  I, '  it  is  of  no  use  ;  you  shall  receive  this 
present.  Your  doinir  so  will  confer  a  new  obliga- 
tion on  me,  and  I  shut  I  even  consider  it  as  one  of 
the  greatest  proofs  of  your  regard  for  me.'  As  I 
continued  to  press  him  still  more  closely,  and  he 
redoubled  his  efforts  to  escape  from  my  gratitude, 
the  others  imagined  that  I  was  quarrelling  with 
him,  and  they  came  forward  to  appease  me.  See- 
ing this,  he  hastily  said  that,  if  he  must  accept 
something  from  me,  he  would  take  two  ducats  as  a 
keepsake,  in  remembrance  of  the  happiness  he  had 
enjoyed  in  knowing  me.  I  was  so  much  the  more 
charmed  by  this  noble  disinterestedness,  as  I  had 
no  reason  to  expect  it  from  a  man  in  his  class  of 
life.  He  took  two  ducats  from  my  hand  in  a  man- 


256  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ner  and  with  feelings  that  I  cannot  describe ;  and 
thanked  me  as  heartily  as  I  could  have  thanked  him 
had  he  accepted  not  merely  the  scanty  present 
which  I  originally  offered,  but  the  far  larger  reward 
which  I  would  gladly  have  paid  for  his  services." 
Though  the  king  had  succeeded  in  crossing  the 
Vistula,  he  was  not  yet  in  safety.  His  situation 
was  like  that  of  a  shipwrecked  mariner,  who,  hav- 
ing  reached  the  strand,  fears  that  the  receding 
wave  may  carry  him  back  into  the  deep.  At  a 
large  village  a  few  hundred  paces  from  the  river, 
he  learned  that  there  were  Russian  outposts  not  far 
off,  and  that  the  Cossacks  were  in  the  habit  of 
plundering  in  the  vicinity.  Wishing  to  get  speed- 
ily at  a  distance  from  such  unpleasant  neighbours, 
he  tried  to  procure  horses,  but  failed  in  the  attempt. 
When  he  came  to  look  for  the  guides,  he  found  that 
they  had  thrown  themselves  upon  a  bed  at  the  pub- 
lie  house,  and  were  fast  asleep.  For  a  while  he 
Kept  watch  round  the  house ;  but,  dreading  the 
consequences  of  farther  delay,  he  at  length  awoke 
one  of  them,  and  prevailed  on  him  to  go  in  search 
of  a  conveyance.  The  messenger  was  ordered  to 
bring  one,  whatever  might  be  the  kind  or  the  price. 
It  was  fortunate  that  the  monarch  had  the  means 
of  payment.  In  the  course  of  the  journey  he  had 
been  very  near  depriving  himself  of  them.  The 
money,  two  hundred  ducats,  was  given  to  him  by 
the  Marquis  de  Monti.  Being  unused  to  carry  such 
a  sum,  he  in  a  few  hours  found  it  so  troublesome 
an  encumbrance  that  he  solicited  General  Stein  flic  hi 
to  take  charge  of  it.  Steinflicht,  however,  prevail, 
ed  on  him  to  keep  one  half,  in  order  to  be  prepa- 
red against  any  accident ;  and,  had  this  not  been  tlv 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        257 

case,  Stanislaus,  bereft  of  resources,  would  proba- 
bly have  been  unable  to  escape. 

After  a  lapse  of  two  hours  the  trusty  messenger 
returned,  so  intoxicated  that  he  had  scarcely  pow- 
er to  stand.  His  mission,  however,  had  not  been 
a  fruitless  one ;  for  he  brought  with  him  a  man 
who  was  willing  to  let  them  have  the  use  of  a 
vehicle,  laden  with  various  articles,  on  condition 
that  their  value  should  be  deposited  with  some  one 
in  the  village,  as  they  might  perhaps  be  lost  by 
falling  into  the  clutches  of  the  Cossacks.  To  short- 
en the  business,  Stanislaus  at  once,  without  hag. 
gling  as  to  the  terms,  purchased  the  whole  for  five- 
and-twenty  ducats. 

The  sight  of  so  much  money  seems  to  have 
roused  into  violent  action  the  inebriate's  love  of 
gold.  In  an  insolent  tone  and  a  hiccoughing  voicer 
he  began  to  descant  on  his  valuable  exertions,  his 
courage,  his  fidelity,  and  the  risks  he  had  run  ;  and 
he  declared  that  he  would  not  submit  to  be  duped, 
but  would  have  on  the  spot  what  payment  he  was 
to  receive  for  all  the  sacrifices  that  he  had  made. 
The  possession  of  so  large  a  sum  of  money  by 
one  apparently  so  poor  as  Stanislaus,  his  careless 
expenditure  of  it,  and  his  having  three  men  at  his 
command,  had  already  excited  the  surmises  and 
suspicions  of  the  villagers,  and  the  language  used 
by  the  drunken  man  increased  them.  Some  of 
the  by-standers  seemed  disposed  to  take  the  part  of 
the  latter,  and  the  monarch  began  to  fear  that 
the  whole  of  his  secret  would  be  divulged.  He 
also  expected  every  moment  to  see  the  chief  of 
the  guides  turn  against  him.  Never  did  he  con- 
•idr»r  himself  in  greater  danger  than  now.  In  thi* 
24—17 


258  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

emergency,  however,  the  conductor  rendered  him 
an  essential  service.  That  important  individual, 
who  had  a  strong  propensity  to  domineer,  did  not, 
perhaps,  like  to  see  his  privilege  infringed  upon 
by  a  follower.  He  addressed  the  offender  in  very 
uncourteous  terms.  "  Hold  your  tongue,  you  black- 
guard," he  exclaimed ;  "  what  reason  have  you  to 
complain  ?  Have  not  we  shared  in  all  your  troub- 
les and  dangers,  and  do  you  see  us  setting  up  such 
pretensions  as  yours?"  Then  turning  to  the 
crowd,  he  said,  "You  must  not  mind  what  this 
fellow  says.  When  he  has  had  a  glass  too  much 
he  always  thinks  himself  in  the  company  of  kings 
and  princes.  If  you  listen  to  him,  he  will  soon 
convert  me  into  some  great  personage ;  though  he 
will  not  pay  me  a  grain  more  respect  than  if  he 
thought  me,  what  I  really  am,  a  poor  unfortunate 
fellow  like  himself."  This  adroit  speech  was  de- 
cisive. The  majority  of  the  crowd  began  to  hoot 
the  staggering  Schnapan ;  and,  though  some  of 
the  persons  present  were  evidently  of  opinion  that 
Stanislaus  was  other  than  he  seemed,  no  one  at- 
tempted to  molest  him. 

As  it  was  impossible  to  say,  however,  what 
change  might  take  place  in  the  feelings  of  the  vil- 
lagers, the  king  lost  no  time  in  pursuing  his  jour- 
ney. The  drunken  Schnapan  was  packed  into  the 
vehicle,  the  other  was  dismissed  to  inform  the  Mar- 
quis de  Monti  that  the  passage  of  the  Vistula  had 
been  effected,  and  the  pragmatical  conductor  took 
charge  of  the  horses.  On  quitting  the  village  they 
did  not  dare  to  make  any  inquiry  respecting  the 
roads,  as  their  doing  so  might  afford  a  clew  to  trace 
them.  Nor  could  they  ask  for  information  in  sev- 


STANISLAUS    LECZINSKI.  259 

«ral  other  villages  through  which  they  passed,  since 
those  places  were  occupied  by  Russian  and  Saxon 
troops,  and  the  travellers  thought  themselves  ex. 
tremely  fortunate  in  being  allowed  to  proceed  un- 
questioned. The  heat  grew  so  excessive  that  at 
last  the  horses  were  ready  to  sink  under  their  bur- 
den,  and  the  party  were  much  embarrassed  what  to 
do,  when,  luckily,  they  came  to  a  deserted  house 
which  stood  at  some  distance  from  the  road.  There 
they  took  shelter  for  a  couple  of  hours,  while  the 
horses  were  recruited  by  grazing. 

Midway  between  Marienwerder  and  Marienburg 
the  Vistula  divides  into  two  rivers.  The  left  of 
these  retains  the  original  name,  and  falls  into  the 
Baltic  Sea  below  Dantzic,  after  throwing  out  a 
branch  before  it  reaches  that  city.  The  stream 
which  flows  to  the  right,  and  on  which  Marienburg 
is  situated,  falls  into  the  Frisch  Haff,  and  is  called 
the  Nogat.  Stanislaus  was  now  in  the  triangular 
island  formed  by  the  Baltic,  the  Vistula,  and  the 
Nogat ;  and  it  was  his  object  to  cross  the  latter 
river  above  Marienburg,  in  order  to  reach  the 
friendly  territory  of  Prussia,  which  was  nigh  at 
hand. 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  travellers 
arrived  at  the  bank  of  a  river,  on  the  shore  of  which 
was  lying  an  old  leaky  boat.  "  How  lucky  we 
are  !"  exclaimed  the  guides  ;  "  here  is  the  Nogat, 
and  here  is  a  boat,  which  Providence  seems  to  have 
sent  expressly  for  our  use !"  They  were  begin- 
ning to  push  the  skiff  into  the  water,  when  a  peas- 
ant came  up,  from  whom  Stanislaus,  who  had  many 
doubts  on  the  subject,  inquired  whether  this  stream 
was  the  Nogat.  "  No,  indeed,"  said  the  peasant, 


U60  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

"  it  is  the  Vistula ;  you  are  a  league  and  a  half 
from  the  Nogat."  They  had  lost  their  way  ;  and 
had  not  this  man  opportunely  appeared,  they  would 
have  recrossed  the  Vistula,  and  their  ruin  would 
have  been  almost  inevitable. 

There  was  a  public  house  close  by,  into  which 
the  king  and  his  guides  entered,  representing  them- 
selves  as  butchers  of  Marienburg,  who  wanted  te 
go  over  the  Nogat  to  purchase  cattle.  The  host 
replied  that  they  must  give  up  that  idea,  for  that 
not  a  boat,  however  small,  was  to  be  had  on  that 
river,  the  Russians  having  carried  them  all  away 
to  Marienburg,  lest  they  should  be  seized  by  the 
Polish  flying  parties,  which  were  scouring  the 
country  on  the  other  side.  This  was  bad  news  ; 
and  it  seems  to  have  absolutely  turned  the  heads 
of  the  two  guides.  After  Stanislaus  had  spent  a 
sleepless  night  in  a  barn,  they  came  to  him  at  day- 
break to  propose  the  most  absurd  and  hazardous 
of  all  schemes.  They  had,  they  said,  made  up 
their  minds  that  there  was  no  other  way  of  cross- 
ing the  Nogat  than  by  the  bridge  at  Marienburg. 
The  king  endeavoured  to  rally  them  out  of  this  in- 
sane project.  "  Really,"  said  he,  "  I  do  not  know 
you  again  !  Is  it  indeed  you  who  manifest  such 
uncommon  courage  ?  What !  can  you  venture  to 
brave  a  numerous  garrison  of  regular  troops  ? 
you,  who  grew  pale  at  the  approach  of  a  few  un- 
disciplined fellows  that  did  not  deserve  the  name 
of  soldiers  ?  Are  you  ignorant  that  the  danger 
from  which  I  am  flying  awaits  me  in  that  very 
town,  and  that  you  will  certainly  find  there  the 
shackles  and  the  gibbet,  of  which  you  stand  BO 
much  in  feu-  ?" 


STANISLAUS  LECZ1NSK1.        261 

Instead  of  giving  up  their  plan,  however,  as  he 
had  hoped  they  would,  they  only  insisted  on  it  the 
more  tenaciously,  and  at  last  declared  that  they 
would  leave  him  if  he  refused  to  adopt  it.  It  was 
only  by  dint  of  earnest  and  persevering  entreaty 
that  he  at  length  succeeded  so  far  as  to  prevail  on 
them  to  continue  their  journey  to  the  Nogat,  to  as- 
certain  whether  a  boat  could  be  procured.  Nor 
could  he  obtain  even  this  concession  without  agree- 
ing to  go  to  Marienburg  in  case  of  their  being  dis- 
appointed when  they  reached  the  river.  They 
now  crossed  through  woods,  and  by  almost  impass- 
able roads,  till  they  came  to  a  village.  Here  the 
king  wished  to  make  some  inquiries,  but  his  com- 
panions opposed  it,  on  the  ground  of  its  impru- 
dence. They  were  ready  to  thrust  themselves 
into  danger  by  facing  a  Russian  garrison,  but  ter- 
rifled  at  the  idea  of  putting  a  simple  question  to 
unsuspecting  peasants  !  Again  they  protested  that 
it  was  useless  to  ask  about  roads  and  ferries,  there 
being  no  egress  but  through  Marienburg ;  and 
again  Stanislaus  was  under  the  necessity  of  resort- 
ing to  persuasion  to  shake  their  obstinacy.  The 
Schnapan  then  volunteered  to  inquire  at  a  neigh, 
bouring  house  ;  but  he  speedily  came  back  to  say 
that  the  owners  spoke  only  Polish,  and  could  not 
understand  him.  To  this  the  king  replied  that  he 
would  himself  go  and  speak  to  them.  "  At  the 
same  time  I  prepared,"  says  he,  "  to  alight  from 
the  vehicle.  But  this  was  a  day  of  contradiction 
with  my  attendants.  They  opposed  my  design, 
because  they  feared  that  my  language  would  be- 
tray me.  I  laughed,  however,  at  their  fears,  and 
got  out  in  spite  of  them.  I  was  already  proceed' 


262  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ing  towards  the  house,  when,  to  prevent  my  design, 
they  placed  themselves  before  me,  and  swore  they 
would  die  sooner  than  allow  me  to  go  farther. 
This  excessive  impudence  was  past  bearing,  and 
(  rushed  on  them  as  though  I  meant  to  knock  them 
down  and  trample  over  them.  A  moment  after, 
(  could  not  help  laughing  in  my  sleeve  at  my  sud- 
den burst  of  passion ;  but  how  could  I  restrain 
myself  in  the  first  heat  of  my  resentment  ?  And, 
in  fact,  was  it  not  rather  a  prudent  outbreak, 
prompted  by  reason,  than  a  blind  transport  of  an- 
ger ?  My  firmness  daunted  them,  and  made  them 
have  recourse  to  new  menaces.  «  Well,'  said  they, 
as  they  hastily  drew  back  out  of  my  way,  '  since 
it  is  your  intention  to  get  us  hanged,  we  will  quit 
you  this  moment.'  '  Oh  !  with  all  my  heart,'  was 
my  reply  :  *  go  along  ;  set  off"  when  you  please  ;  a 
good  journey  to  you.' 

"  I  entered  the  house,  and  in  as  polite  a  manner 
as  was  consistent  with  my  rustic  garb,  which  I 
dared  not  belie,  told  the  hostess  that  I  wished  to 
cross  the  Nogat  to  purchase  cattle,  and  would 
thank  her  to  tell  me  the  best  place  for  getting  over. 
'  Really  you  come  in  good  time,'  said  she, '  for  I 
can  save  you  the  trouble  of  a  passage,  which,  in 
fact,  is  very  difficult  to  accomplish.  I  have  cattle 
to  sell,  and  I  can  see,  from  your  manner,  that  we 
shall  easily  agree  about  the  price.'  I  pretended  to 
be  delighted  with  what  she  said,  but  replied  that  I 
could  not  deal  with  her  till  I  came  back,  as  I  was 
going  for  a  sum  of  money  which  was  due  to  me,  a 
part  of  which  I  would  gladly  lay  out  with  her  on 
my  return.  '  But  there  is  not  a  single  boat  to  be 
had,'  she  rejoined  ;  '  what  will  you  do  ?'  '  What 


STANISLAUS    LLVZINSKI.  263 

ever  you  think  best,'  answered  I,  in  an  open  and 
confiding  tone.  '  I  would  rather  accept  a  favour 
from  you  than  from  any  one  else,  and  I  am  sure, 
you  will  not  be  offended  with  the  preference  which 
I  give  you  in  this  respect.  But,  in  short,  I  am  fa- 
miliar  with  this  country/  added  I,  '  and,  obliged  as 
you  are  to  keep  up  a  continual  intercourse  with  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  I  know  it  is  impossible  but 
that,  in  spite  of  all  the  precautions  taken  by  the  Rus- 
sians, you  must  have  some  means  of  crossing.'  *  I 
see  you  are  a  good  fellow,'  said  the  hostess.  *  Stay : 
I  will  send  my  son  with  you ;  he  will  take  you  a 
quarter  of  a  league  farther  on.  Upon  the  opposite 
bank  there  is  a  fisherman,  a  friend  of  his,  who 
keeps  a  little  boat  in  his  house.  At  a  signal  he 
will  come  and  take  you  in,  and  you  cannot  have  a 
more  safe  and  easy  mode  of  being  relieved  from 
the  embarrassment  under  which  I  perceive  you  to 
be  labouring.'  I  thanked  this  woman  in  the  warm, 
est  terms,  and  left  the  house  with  her  son." 

The  two  refractory  guides  had  waited  at  a  little 
distance  to  learn  the  result  of  the  king's  adventure. 
When  they  saw  him  come  out  with  a  joyous  coun- 
tenance and  a  new  conductor,  they  were  beyond 
measure  astonished  and  disconcerted.  He,  howev- 
er, afiected  not  to  be  aware  of  their  presence.  As 
soon  as  the  son  of  the  hostess  had  taken  his  place, 
Stanislaus  set  the  vehicle  in  motion  ;  upon  which 
the  guides,  who  probably  at  that  moment  were  in 
dread  of  a  halter,  came  running  up,  and  requested 
admission.  He  allowed  them  to  get  in,  but  took 
no  notice  of  them. 

On  reaching  the  Nogat,  Stanislaus  left  one  of  the 
guides  in  charge  of  the  vehicle  and  horses,  with  or* 


264  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ders  to  wait  till  he  was  joined  by  his  comrade.  Tin 
signal  was  then  given,  the  fisherman  rowed  over 
with  his  boat,  and  the  royal  passenger  and  the  re- 
maining guide  were  conveyed  to  the  opposite  bank, 
where,  after  seven  days'  endurance  of  toil  and  peril, 
the  king  at  last  found  himself  in  safety.  This  hap- 
py termination  of  his  adventures  filled  the  heart  of 
the  wanderer  with  gratitude  to  his  Maker.  In  a 
neighbouring  village  he  bought  another  vehicle,  dis- 
missed  the  last  of  his  guides,  giving  him  a  short 
note,  in  cipher,  to  the  Marquis  de  Monti,  and  then 
bent  his  way  to  the  Prussian  town  of  Marienwerder. 
"  I  passed  through  that  town,"  says  he,  "  seated  on 
my  wagon,  and  I  more  than  once  laughed  at  the 
•curvy  appearance  of  my  equipage.  My  entrance 
into  the  place  was  certainly  anything  but  magnifi- 
cent ;  but  no  vain  splendour  could  have  enhanced 
the  joy  which  I  felt  at  that  moment.  I  had  with  me 
the  justice  of  my  cause,  the  love  of  my  subjects,  my 
peace  of  conscience,  and,  doubtless,  the  esteem  of 
my  enemies.  What  more  cogent  motives  could  I 
have  had  to  forget  my  reverses  ?  Those  only  who 
have  deserved  their  misfortunes,  or  who  have  fail- 
ed  to  bear  them  courageously,  may  be  allowed  to 
remember  them  with  sorrow." 

The  day  after  his  arrival  at  Marienwerder  the 
king  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  again  with  his 
faithful  companion,  General  Steinflicht.  From 
Marienwerder  he  set  off  to  Konigsberg.  Orders 
had  already  been  given  by  the  Prussian  monarch 
to  afford  him  whatever  assistance  he  might  require, 
and  to  pay  him  all  due  honours.  Having  remain- 
ed for  some  time  at  Konigsberg,  where  he  was  lodg- 
ed in  the  palace,  he  returned  to  France. 


STANISLAUS  LECZINSKI.        265 

After  all  his  vicissitudes,  Stanislaus  was  destined 
to  retain  the  regal  title  and  to  die  a  sovereign.  By 
the  treaty  of  peace  between  France  and  the  em. 
peror,  which  was  concluded  in  1735,  it  was  stipu- 
lated that  he  should  renounce  the  kingdom  of  Po- 
land, retaining,  however,  the  title,  and  should  pos- 
sess for  life  the  duchies  of  Lorraine  and  Bar,  which 
on  his  decease  were  to  be  united  to  France.  All 
his  patrimonial  property  in  Poland,  which  had  been 
confiscated,  was  likewise  restored. 

The  territory  assigned  to  him  was  held  by  Stan- 
islaus for  a  period  of  thirty  years.  On  assuming 
the  reins  of  government,  he  had  to  overcome  the 
prejudices  of  the  Lorrainers,  who  were  strongly  at- 
tached  to  the  family  of  their  ancient  dukes.  His 
virtues,  however,  finally  rendered  him  a  favourite  of 
the  people.  One  circumstance  alone  at  times  exci* 
ted  the  murmurs  of  his  subjects.  France  had  se- 
cured to  herself  the  revenue  of  the  two  duchies,  on 
condition  of  paying  to  the  new  duke  a  yearly  sum 
of  two  millions  of  livres  ;  and  the  Lorrainers  justly 
considered  as  oppressive  some  of  the  financial  meas- 
ures of  the  French  government,  which  Stanislaus 
was  compelled  to  sanction.  It  was,  however,  not  to 
the  duke,  but  to  his  peculiar  situation,  that  the  fault 
was  attributed  by  those  who  were  aggrieved.  His 
efforts  to  improve  and  embellish  his  dominions,  and 
to  promote  the  prosperity  of  his  people,  were  inces- 
sant, and  earned  for  him  the  glorious  appellation  of 
"the  beneficent."  He  founded  churches,  hospitals, 
schools,  and  charitable  institutions  of  various  kinds , 
established  a  public  library,  and  a  royal  society  of 
sciences  and  literature ;  extended  relief  not  merely 
to  individuals,  but  to  ruined  towns ;  and  adorned  the 


266  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

city  of  Nancy,  his  capital,  with  splendid  edifices. 
While  he  was  thus  honourably  occupied,  his  Polish 
partisans  fanned  a  scheme  for  placing  him  once 
more  on  the  throne ;  but  he  refused  to  countenance 
it,  and  patriotically  exhorted  them  to  forbear  from 
involving  their  country  in  the  horrors  of  a  civil 
war. 

Stanislaus  lived  to  a  very  advanced  age.  He 
paid  the  severe  penalty  which  nature  irrevocably 
attaches  to  "  length  of  days,"  that  of  seeing  those 
we  love  descending  to  the  grave  before  us.  His 
wife,  Catharine  Opolinska,  with  whom  he  had  for 
half  a  century  lived  in  harmonious  union,  died  in. 
1747.  The  decease,  in  1765,  of  his  grandson  the 
dauphin,  of  whom  he  had  formed  the  brightest  hopes, 
gave  a  terrible  wound  to  his  peace.  "  I  have,"  said 
he,  *'  twice  lost  a  crown  without  being  moved  by  it, 
but  the  death  of  my  dear  dauphin  annihilates  me." 

Stanislaus  did  not  long  survive  the  lamented  ob- 
ject of  his  effection.  A  mind  imbued  with  supersti. 
tion  might  be  tempted  to  believe  that  he  had  an  in- 
distinct bodement  of  his  approaching  end,  and  even 
of  the  manner  in  which  it  was  to  be  brought  about. 
On  the  1st  of  February,  1766,  he  visited  the  church 
of  Bon  Secours,  which  he  had  built,  and  meant  as 
his  burial-place.  He  stood  for  a  considerable  time 
over  the  vault ;  and,  on  going  away,  he  said  to  his 
attendants,  "  Do  you  know  what  kept  me  there  so 
long  ?  1  was  thinking  that  in  a  short  time  I  shall 
be  three  feet  lower  down."  He  was  at  the  mo- 
ment in  perfect  health,  and  of  a  hale  constitution. 
Shortly  after,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  num. 
ber  of  sovereigns  who  had  lately  died.  He  reck- 
oned  them  all  up,  and  remarked  that  he  was  the  old* 


STANISLAUS    LEOZINSK1.  267 

est  sovereign  in  Europe.  Then  he  adverted  to  the 
numerous  perils  to  which  he  had  been  exposed,  and 
added,  "  For  me  to  have  encountered  every  kind  of 
danger  there  only  wants  my  being  burned." 

Four  days  after  these  words  were  uttered,  his 
morning-gown  caught  fire  as  he  was  looking  up 
at  a  clock  over  the  mantelpiece.  He  called  to  his 
attendants,  but  there  was  no  one  at  hand.  In  stoop- 
ing to  extinguish  the  flames,  he  lost  his  balance,  and, 
in  falling,  was  wounded,  and  probably  stunned,  by 
the  point  of  an  andiron.  Unable  to  move  or  to 
speak,  he  lay  for  some  time  with  one  of  his  hands 
on  the  burning  fuel ;  and  it  was  not  till  their  atten- 
tion was  excited  by  the  strong  odour  which  issued 
from  the  apartment  that  the  domestics  came  to  his 
rescue.  On  being  raised  up  he  recovered  his 
senses.  The  fingers  of  his  left  hand  were  consu- 
med, and  all  that  side  of  his  body,  from  the  neck  to 
the  knee,  was  injured  in  a  terrible  degree. 

When  his  disaster  first  became  known,  the  towns- 
people  thronged  to  the  palace  in  the  deepest  afflic- 
tion. Every  day,  as  the  tidings  spread,  crowds 
from  all  parts  of  Lorraine  hurried  to  Luneville,  to 
ascertain  the  state  of  the  sovereign  who  had  ruled 
them  so  long  and  so  benevolently.  Even  in  the 
midst  of  his  sufferings,  his  kindly  feelings  for  others 
remained  undiminished.  Learning  that  some  ot 
those  who  had  come  to  inquire  about  him  were  poor 
persons  who  had  not  the  means  of  subsistence,  he 
ordered  that  their  wants  should  be  immediately  sup- 
plied. To  calm  the  fears  of  his  daughter,  the  Queen 
of  France,  he  dictated  a  letter,  in  which,  evidently 
with  a  view  to  conceal  the  full  extent  of  his  misfor- 
tune, he  bantered  her  on  having  recently  advised 

A. 


268  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

him  to  beware  of  cold.     "You  ought,"  said  he, 
M  rather  to  have  warned  me  to  beware  of  heat.*' 

For  a  while  there  were  hopes  that  the  life  of 
Stanislaus  might  be  saved.  His  invincible  forti- 
tude and  equanimity  contributed  to  keep  alive  these 
delusive  anticipations  of  his  friends.  He  signed 
papers,  and  even  held  a  sort  of  levee  with  his  wont- 
ed cheerfulness.  But  the  vital  powers  were  too 
much  exhausted  to  maintain  the  contest.  He  sank 
into  a  lethargy,  from  which  he  awoke  only  to  find 
his  tortures  increased.  After  having  endured  ex- 
treme  agony,  he  expired  on  the  23d  of  February, 
1766,  in  the  eighty-eighth  year  of  his  age. 


EXPULSION    OF    CORTEZ    FROM    MEXICO, 
AND  HIS  RECONQUEST  OF  THAT  CITY 

BT  the  decisive  overthrow  of  his  rival  Narvaez 
at  Zempoalla,  and  the  junction  of  the  defeated  troops 
with  his  own,  Cortez  seemed  to  have  acquired  such 
an  accession  of  strength  as  to  place  him  above  all 
fear  of  disaster,  and  almost  of  opposition.  Besides 
a  detachment  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  men,  de- 
spatched under  Velasquez  de  Leon  to  Panuco,  he 
was  at  the  head  of  thirteen  hundred  Europeans,  of 
whom  nearly  a  hundred  were  cavalry,  and  a  hun- 
dred and  sixty  musketeers  and  crossbowmen.  He 
was  also  seconded  by  a  division  of  two  thousand 
Tlascalan  warriors. 

But,  while  Cortez  was  triumphing  over  his  enemy 
and  increasing  his  own  resources,  an  event  was  oc- 
curring in  Mexico  which  threatened  eventually  to 
prove  destructive  to  him.  On  his  departing  from 
that  city  to  march  against  Narvaez,  he  had  left  Al- 
varado  in  command,  with  four  cannon,  and  a  feeble 
party  of  eighty. three  soldiers,  of  which  only  twenty- 
four  were  musketeers  and  crossbowmen,  and  seven 
•avalry.  Alvarado's  quarters  were  strengthened 
with  a  stout  palisade,  and  he  was  well  supplied  with 
provisions.  Possessing  such  inadequate  means  to 
control  the  population  of  so  large  a  city,  it  behooved 
him  to  supply  by  his  prudence  the  want  of  physical 
strength.  But  Alvarado  was  actuated  only  by  an 
insatiable  hunger  for  gold,  and  by  that  brute  inso- 
lence which  springs  from  the  exercise  of  abused 


270  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

and  unresisted  power.  Pretending  to  have  obtain- 
ed information  that  the  Mexicans  were  meditating 
to  fall  upon  the  Spaniards,  he  treacherously  attack. 
«d  them  while  they  were  dancing  at  a  solemn  fes- 
tival in  honour  of  their  deities.  He  had  himself 
permitted  them  to  hold  the  festival,  and  his  real 
motive  for  assailing  them  unaware  is  believed  to 
have  been  that  he  might  plunder  them  of  the  golden 
ornaments  which  they  wore  on  such  occasions.  In 
this  instance,  however,  the  Mexicans  did  not  tamely 
submit  to  injustice.  Enraged  by  his  perfidy,  and 
the  wanton  slaughter  of  great  numbers  of  their  fel- 
low-countrymen, and  imboldened  by  the  scantiness 
of  his  force,  they  rose  in  insurrection  against  him. 
They  were  victorious  :  several  of  the  Spaniards 
were  slain  outright,  several  wounded,  and  the  sur- 
vivers  compelled  to  retreat  to  their  fortified  quar- 
ters. Thither  they  were  followed  by  the  Mexicans, 
who  held  them  closely  besieged,  harassed  them  with 
frequent  assaults,  and  destroyed  by  fire  a  part  of 
the  Spanish  posts  and  magazines,  and  also  the  two 
brigantines  on  the  lake.  In  this  critical  condition, 
menaced  at  once  by  the  sword  and  by  famine,  Alva- 
rado  despatched  messengers  to  Cortez  soliciting  in- 
stant  succour.  Almost  at  the  heels  of  those  mes- 
sengers arrived  four  of  the  chief  noblemen  of  Mon- 
tezuma's  court,  to  complain  of  the  conduct  of  Alva- 
rado  :  they  were  received  coldly,  and  dismissed  with 
an  ambiguous  answer. 

In  order  to  give  the  reader  a  clearer  idea  of  the 
subsequent  operations  of  Cortez,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  make  him  correctly  acquainted  with  the  lo. 
cal  situation  of  the  ancient  Mexican  capital.  That 
capital,  which  then  bore  the  name  of  Tenochtitlan, 


CORTEZ.  27  1 

occupied  not  only  the  ground  on  which  the  modern 
Mexico  stands,  but  also  an  additional  space  of  still 
more  ample  extent.  Nor  did  it  resemble  its  suc- 
cessor in  being  built  upon  the  mainland.  Like 
Venice,  it  occupied  a  cluster  of  islands,  which  rose, 
at  some  distance  from  the  western  shore,  out  of  a 
vast  salt-water  lake,  called  the  Lake  of  Tezcuco. 
It  was  approachable  on  the  north,  south,  and  west 
only  by  three  causeways,  formed  of  earth  faced  with 
stone,  each  of  which  was  about  ten  yards  wide,  and 
divided  at  intervals  by  cuts,  admitting  the  water  to 
flow  through,  and  bridged  with  timber,  the  remova. 
of  which  would  prevent  access  to  the  city.  The 
western  causeway,  a  mile  and  a  half  long,  led  to 
Tacuba ;  that  on  the  north,  twice  the  length,  led  to 
Tepeaca  ;  and  that  on  the  south,  which  extended 
six  miles,  was  the  road  to  Iztapalapa,  and  likewise 
threw  off  from  the  midway  of  it  a  branch  to  Caya- 
huacan.  The  great  distance  and  the  depth  of 
water  did  not  allow  of  a  causeway  to  the  eastern 
shore,  on  which  stood  the  city  of  Tezcuco  ;  but 
communication  was  kept  up  by  means  of  canoes, 
myriads  of  which  were  perpetually  in  motion  on  the 
lake.  To  the  south  was  a  smaller  lake,  reaching 
from  Chalco  to  Suchimilco,  and  connected  with  that 
of  Tezcuco.  The  city  of  Tenochtitlan  was  inter- 
sected by  innumerable  canals,  over  which  were 
bridges  wide  enough  for  ten  horsemen  to  pass 
abreast.  As  the  water  of  the  lake  was  not  drink- 
able, fresh  water  was  conveyed  from  the  mainland 
by  the  aqueduct  of  Chepultapeque.  Bernal  Diaz 
saw  the  Mexican  capital  from  the  lofty  summit  of 
the  great  temple,  and  he  thus  describes  it :  "  We 
were  struck  with  the  numbers  of  canoes  passing  tc 


5472  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

and  f'rutu  the  mainland,  loaded  with  p"«> visions  nnj 
me-chandise ;  and  we  could  now  perceive  that  ia 
this  city,  and  in  all  others  of  that  neighbourhood 
which  were  built  in  the  water,  the  houses  stooc1 
separate  from  each  other,  communicating  only  by 
small  drawbridges  and  by  boats,  and  that  they  wer« 
built  with  terraced  tops.  We  observed  also  th« 
temples  and  adoratories  of  the  adjacent  cities,  buik 
in  the  form  of  towers  and  fortresses,  and  others  o» 
the  causeway,  all  whitewashed,  and  wonderfully 
brilliant.  The  noise  and  bustle  of  the  market-plact* 
below  us  could  be  heard  almost  a  league  off,  and 
those  who  had  been  at  Rome  and  at  Constantino- 
ple said  that,  for  convenience,  regularity,  and  pop- 
ulation, they  had  never  seen  the  like."  Since  the 
lime  of  Cortez  a  wonderful  change  has  taken  place 
in  the  aspect  of  the  country  around  Mexico ;  the 
increased  evaporation  and  the  diminished  supply  of 
water  in  consequence  of  the  destruction  of  the 
woods,  the  gradual  accretion  of  alluvial  soil,  and 
the  formation  of  a  gigantic  drainage  canal,  have  ah 
contributed  to  shrink  the  lake  into  narrower  dimen- 
sions, so  that  the  modern  capital  is  now  seated  on 
a  marshy  plain,  with  its  centre  nearly  three  mile* 
distant  from  the  western  shore. 

The  tidings  which  had  been  brought  to  Corte* 
did  not  admit  of  any  delay,  and  he  accordingly 
proceeded  by  forced  marches  to  the  Mexican  capi. 
tal.  Notwithstanding  the  disastrous  news  from 
that  city,  Cortez,  during  his  progress  towards  it 
could  not  refrain  from  expatiating  to  the  new-com- 
ers on  the  power  which  he  possessed  there,  and 
the  respect  in  which  he  was  held,  and  he  raised  to 
the  highest  pitch  their  hopes  of  reaping  an  exube- 


CORTEZ.  273 

rant  golden  harvest.  It  was  not  long,  however, 
before  they  had  reason  to  doubt  the  truth  of  his 
assertions.  At  Tezcuco  he  was  received  with  a 
studied  coldness  and  neglect,  which  argued  but  ill 
for  his  reception  in  the  capital.  It  was  on  St. 
John's  day,  in  the  month  of  June,  that  the  Spanish 
troops,  with  their  Tlascalan  allies,  entered  Mexico. 
Their  leader  was  speedily  made  aware  that  all  re- 
spect  for  him  had  ceased,  and  that  henceforth  he 
could  exercise  no  power  that  was  not  won  by  the 
sword.  The  whole  of  that  portion  of  the  city 
through  which  he  passed  to  Alvai  ado's  quarters 
seemed  to  be  depopulated,  and  not  one  of  the  no. 
bility  or  chiefs  with  whom  he  had  been  familiar 
came  forward  to  greet  him.  When,  indeed,  he 
reached  Alvarado's  post,  he  was  met  by  some  of 
the  officers  of  the  captive  Montezuma,  who  ex- 
pressed the  wish  of  their  royal  master  to  congrat- 
ulate him  in  person  on  his  victory.  But  the  arro- 
gant Spaniard  was  in  too  wrathful  a  mood  to  be 
propitiated  by  this  homage,  and  he  vented  his  rage 
against  the  monarch  in  the  grossest  language, 
and  threatened  him  with  his  heaviest  vengeance. 
"  Away  with  him,  the  dog !  What  obligation  am 
I  under  to  a  dog  who  treated  with  Narvaez  !"  were 
among  the  decorous  terms  which  were  used  by  this 
Iberian  robber.  In  the  hope  of  softening  his  anger, 
Montezuma  himself  now  advanced ;  but  the  Span- 
iard would  neither  hear  nor  speak  to  him,  and  the 
repulsed  sovereign  retired,  with  melancholy  fore- 
bodings, to  his  own  apartment. 

These  bursts  of  vulgar  passion  would  probably 
not  have  been  indulged  in  by  Cortez  had  he  not 
Imagined  that  impunity  for  them  was  secured  by 

24—18 


274  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

his  augmented  force.  The  people  were  socn  in- 
formed of  them,  and  were  maddened  into  tenfold 
fury.  Not  long  after  they  had  been  uttered  a 
wounded  soldier  entered,  exclaiming  that  the  whole 
population  was  in  arms.  He  had  narrowly  escaped 
from  the  hands  of  the  Mexicans,  who  had  seized 
him,  and  were  bearing  him  off  to  be  sacrificed  to 
their  gods.  Cortez  now  began  to  feel  alarmed, 
and  instantly  despatched  Colonel  de  Ordez,  with 
four  hundred  men,  to  endeavour  to  pacify  the  pop. 
ulace.  Ordez  had,  however,  proceeded  but  a  very 
little  way  when  he  was  assailed  by  myriads  of  na- 
tives, as  well  from  the  tops  of  the  houses  as  in  the 
streets.  Their  first  volley  stretched  eight  of  his 
soldiers  lifeless  on  the  ground.  He  turned  to  re- 
trace  his  footsteps,  but  found  himself  hemmed  in 
on  every  side.  Other  multitudes  had  fallen  upon 
the  Spanish  quarters,  and  had  poured  into  them 
such  a  storm  of  missiles,  that  forty-six  Spaniards 
were  wounded,  many  of  them  mortally,  at  the  very 
outset.  Pressed  upon  in  front  and  rear,  and  galled 
by  stones  and  darts  from  the  terraces,  De  Ordez, 
with  extreme  difficulty,  at  last  rejoined  Cortez,  hav- 
ing lost  three-and- twenty  of  his  men  in  this  sharp 
encounter.  All  the  efforts  of  the  Mexicans  were 
now  concentrated  against  the  fortified  quarters  of 
the  Spaniards ;  they  hurled  in  their  missiles  in 
such  numoers  as  to  cover  all  the  courts  and  open 
spaces,  aod  they  brought  the  torch  in  aid  of  their 
weapons.  They  set  fire  to  the  edifices  in  various 
places,  au4  the  Spaniards  were  obliged  to  employ 
a  part  of  ^heir  force  in  smothering  the  flames  with 
earth,  o*  "i  pulling  down  the  buildings  which  were 
burning  around  them.  The  rest  of  the  day  and 


CORTEZ.  275 

the  whole  of  the  night  were  spent  in  arresting  the 
conflagration,  repelling  frequent  attacks,  repairing 
breaches,  dressing  the  wounded,  and  preparing  for 
the  combat  of  the  morrow. 

Hoping  that  the  enemy  might  be  intimidated  by 
a  display  of  his  strength  in  a  vigorous  attack, 
Cortez  sallied  out  with  his  whole  force  at  the  first 
dawn  of  morning.  But  the  Mexican  belief  in 
Spanish  invincibility  had  ceased  to  exist.  On  the 
instant,  thousands  rushed  forward  to  meet  him,  and 
fought  with  a  desperation  which  bordered  on  mad- 
ness. In  vain,  time  after  time,  thirty  or  forty  of 
them  were  at  once  swept  away  by  the  discharge 
of  musketry  and  cannon  ;  the  gap  was  instantly 
filled  up  by  fresh  combatants,  careless  of  life,  and 
thirsting  for  revenge.  Now  and  then,  indeed,  the 
Mexicans  would  pretend  to  give  way,  but  it  was 
only  to  draw  their  unwary  pursuers  into  positions 
where  their  destruction  might  be  more  surely  ac- 
complished. While  the  Spaniards  were  contend- 
ing in  front  with  these  daring  antagonists,  they 
were  sorely  harassed  by  others,  who  were  equally 
formidable,  and  upon  whom  they  were  unable  to 
retaliate.  The  terraced  roofs  were  thronged  with 
Mexicans,  who  incessantly  discharged  volleys  o/ 
Btones  and  darts.  The  Spaniards  were  finally  com- 
pelled  to  retreat ;  and  it  was  not  without  a  hard 
struggle  that,  baffled,  weary,  and  suffering  from 
wounds  and  bruises,  they  at  length  regained  their 
quarters. 

Discouraging  as  was  the  result  of  this  day's  con. 
flict,  Cortez  had  no  alternative  but  to  renew  his 
attack  upon  the  enemy.  There  was  a  chance  that 
»kill  or  good  fortune  might  give  him  the  victory 


276  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

while  acting  upon  the  offensive  :  to  stand  upon  the 
defensive  could  end  only  in  ruin.  Before,  however, 
he  recommenced  his  operations,  he  endeavoured  to 
provide  the  means  of  keeping  his  antagonists  at 
some  distance,  and  sheltering  his  troops  from  the 
perpetual  shower  of  missiles.  For  this  purpose  he 
ordered  four  towers  to  be  constructed  of  strong 
timber,  each  of  which  was  pierced  with  loopholes 
for  cannon,  musketry,  and  crossbows,  and  would 
contain  twenty-five  men  under  cover.  These  towers 
weie  to  be  moved  forward  upon  wheels.  While 
this  work  was  going  on,  the  Spaniards  were  also 
obliged  to  repair  the  breaches  in  their  walls  and 
to  beat  off  the  enemy,  who  attempted  to  scale  them 
in  twenty  places  at  once.  "  They  continued  their 
reviling  language,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  exclaiming 
that  the  voracious  animals  of  their  temples  had  now 
been  kept  two  days  fasting,  in  order  to  devour  us 
at  the  period  which  was  speedily  approaching, 
when  they  were  to  sacrifice  us  to  their  gods ;  that 
our  allies  were  to  be  put  up  in  cages  to  fatten,  and 
that  they  would  soon  repossess  our  ill-acquired 
treasure.  At  other  times  they  plaintively  called 
to  us  to  give  them  their  king  ;  and  during  the  nighi 
we  were  constantly  annoyed  by  showers  of  arrows, 
which  they  accompanied  with  shouts  and  whis- 
tlings." 

A  day  was  spent  in  the  construction  of  the  towers. 
At  dawn  on  the  next  morning  Cortez  again  march- 
ed forth  at  the  head  of  all  his  followers.  Again 
the  battle  raged,  and  with  even  greater  violence 
than  before,  The  Mexicans  fought  with  increased 
obstinacy,  and  their  movements  were  directed  with 
more  skill.  They  rushed  to  the  combat  with  loud 


CORTEZ.  27? 

shouts  and  imprecations,  and  amid  the  din  of  num- 
berless drums,  conchs,  and  a  variety  of  discordant 
war  instruments.  Every  inch  of  the  ground  was 
pertinaciously  contested  by  them,  and  was  bought 
by  the  Spaniards  at  a  large  expense  of  toil  and 
blood.  When  the  cavalry  attempted  to  pursue 
them,  they  eluded  the  charge  by  throwing  them- 
selves into  the  canals,  and  the  pursuers  were  them- 
selves  pierced  with  large  lances  by  enemies  who 
suddenly  sallied  from  the  houses.  From  the  ter- 
races the  slingers  incessantly  plied  their  slings,  and 
their  companions  rolled  down  masses  of  stone  upon 
the  heads  of  the  Spaniards.  To  reach  the  houses 
was  generally  almost  impossible,  as  they  were  all 
insulated  in  this  part  of  the  city ;  and  even  when 
one  of  them  chanced  to  be  set  on  fire,  the  flames 
extended  no  farther. 

It  was  to  the  Teocalli,  or  great  temple,  from 
which  the  Mexicans  overlooked  and  severely  an- 
noyed the  Spanish  quarters,  that  Cortez  was  desi- 
rous to  penetrate.  This  temple,  which  was  situated 
in  the  midst  of  vast  paved  courts,  consisted  of  a 
truncated  pyramid  a  hundred  and  thirteen  feet  in 
height,  and  little  less  than  four  hundred  feet  in 
diameter,  and  was  ascended  by  steps.  On  its  flat 
summit  was  a  tower  nearly  sixty  feet  high,  and 
other  buildings,  devoted  to  the  worship  of  their 
gods.  By  dint  of  the  most  strenuous  exertions 
Cortez  at  length  reached  the  entrance  to  the  spot ; 
but  this  only  brought  him  in  contact  with  more 
numerous  and  desperate  adversaries.  The  sides 
and  summit  of  the  pyramid  were  already  occupied 
by  great  numbers  of  warriors  :  and  no  sooner  did 
the  Spaniards  and  Tlascalans  ".opear  in  sight,  than 


278  PERILOUS  ADVENTURES. 

above  four  thousand  Mexicans  rushed  up  to  assist 
in  the  defence  of  the  building.    Now  began  a  fierce 
and  sanguinary   struggle.     The  Spanish   cavalry 
endeavoured   to   charge  the  enemy  in  the  courts, 
but  the  pavement  was  so  smooth  that  the  horses 
were  unable  to  keep  their  feet.     Cortez,  however, 
by  the  help  of  his  artillery  and  infantry,  at  last 
reached  the  base  of  the  pyramid.     From  the  steps 
of  it,  from  both  sides  of  him,  and  from  behind,  he 
was  perseveringly  attacked ;  and  though  the  can- 
non  swept  off  from  ten  to  fifteen  at  every  discharge, 
and  the  swords  of  the  foot-soldiers   made  almost 
equal  havoc,  fresh  bands  incessantly  filled  the  places 
of  the  fallen.     Cortez  was  forced  to  abandon  his 
wooden  turrets,  and  they  were  destroyed  by  the 
Mexicans.     Nevertheless,  after  a  long  contest,  his 
troops  forced  their  way  up  to  the  platform,  and  set 
fire  to  some  of  the  buildings.    Their  triumph,  how. 
ever,  was  a  transient  one.     Maddened  by  this  in- 
suit  to  the  objects  of  their  worship,  the  enemy  re- 
doubled  their  efforts.     More  than  three  thousand 
Mexican  nobles   and  priests  fell  furiously  on  the 
sacrilegious  invaders,  upon  whom  were  also  shower- 
ed darts  and  stones  from  every  nook  and  corner  of 
the  edifice  where  a  combatant  could  find  a  standing, 
olace.     Overborne   by  the   raging  multitude,   the 
Spaniards,  not  one  of  whom  was  unwounded,  were 
driven  down  from  the  pyramid  and  hotly  pursued 
to  their  quartern,  leaving  forty-six  of  their  slain  com. 
panions  on  the  scene  of  battle.     Nor  when  they  had 
entered  their  quarters  were  they  yet  in  safety ;  for 
during  the  absence  of  Cortez  a  part  of  the  walls 
had  been  beaten  down  by  a  body  of  the  enemy, 
who  were  still  continuing  their  assaults,  and  did 


COKTEZ.  279 

not  cease  from  them  till  lassitude  and  darkness  put 
an  end  to  the  conflict. 

By  this  disastrous  combat  a  heavy  blow  was 
given  to  the  pride  and  confidence  of  the  Spaniards. 
"  The  night,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  was  employed 
by  us  in  repairing  the  breaches,  in  dressing  our 
wounds,  burying  our  dead,  and  consulting  on  our 
future  measures.  No  gleam  of  hope  could  BOW  be 
rationally  formed  by  us,  and  we  were  utterly  sunk 
in  despair.  Those  who  had  come  with  Narvaez 
showered  maledictions  upon  Cortez,  nor  did  they 
forget  Velasquez,  by  whom  they  had  been  induced 
to  quit  their  comfortable  and  peaceful  habitations 
in  the  island  of  Cuba.  It  was  determined  to  try  if 
we  could  not  procure  from  the  enemy  a  cessation 
of  hostilities,  on  condition  of  our  quitting  the  city  j 
but  at  daybreak  they  assembled  around  our  quarters, 
and  attacked  them  with  greater  fury  than  ever  ; 
nor  could  our  firearms  repel  them,  although  they 
did  considerable  execution." 

As  a  last  resource,  Cortez  resolved  that  the  cap- 
tive  Montezuma  should  address  the  besiegers,  de- 
siring them  to  discontinue  hostilities,  and  allow 
their  enemies  to  withdraw  from  the  city.  But  the 
unhappy  monarch  was  reluctant  to  expose  himself 
to  the  gaze  of  his  indignant  subjects  ;  and,  "  burst- 
ing into  violent  expressions  of  grief,"  he  refused  to 
comply  with  the  request  of  the  Spanish  leader. 
He  is  also  said  to  have  declared  that  he  wished  not 
to  be  troubled  any  more  with  the  false  words  and 
promises  of  Cortez.  At  length,  however,  he  was 
prevailed  upon,  or  compelled,  to  harangue  the  peo- 
ple from  a  terraced  roof.  When  he  had  finished 
his  speech,  four  of  the  Mexican  nobles  came  for- 


280  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

ward  from  among  the  multitude.  They  lamented 
his  misfortunes,  and  '•'  told  him  that  they  had  raised 
Coadlavaca,  prince  of  Iztapalapa,  to  the  throne, 
adding  that  the  war  was  drawing  to  a  conclusion ; 
that  they  had  vowed  to  their  gods  never  to  desist 
but  with  the  total  destruction  of  the  Spaniards ; 
that  they  every  day  offered  up  prayers  for  his  per- 
sonal safety  ;  and  that,  as  soon  as  they  had  rescued 
him  out  of  our  hands,  they  would  venerate  him  as 
before,  and  trusted  that  he  would  pardon  them." 

But,  while  the  nobles  of  Montezuma  were  thus 
doing  homage  to  him,  his  final  moment  was  at 
hand.  Though  numbers  of  the  Mexicans  had  sus- 
pended hostilities,  and  loudly  greeted  him,  there 
were  others  whose  anger  was  not  to  be  repressed 
by  his  presence,  or,  rather,  was  increased  by  it ; 
for  they  considered  his  tame  submission  disgrace- 
ful to  himself  and  his  people.  By  this  portion  of 
the  besiegers  arrows  and  stones  were  still  dischar- 
ged into  the  quarters  of  their  detested  enemies. 
While  the  monarch  was  speaking,  two  Spanish  sol- 
diers stood  by  and  covered  him  with  their  shields. 
They  chanced  to  withdraw  them  for  an  instant,  and 
in  that  instant  three  stones  and  an  arrow  struck 
him  on  the  head,  arm,  and  leg  ;  one  of  the  stones 
fractured  his  scull,  and  he  was  conveyed  senseless 
to  the  palace.  On  coming  to  himself  he  refused 
all  medical  aid,  and  shortly  afterward  expired.  His 
body  was  restored  to  the  Mexicans  ;  and  his  er- 
rors  being  cancelled  by  his  untimely  fate,  the  sight 
of  it  produced  universal  grief.  "  They  now,"  says 
Bernal  Diaz,  "  attacked  us  in  our  quarters  with  the 
greatest  violence,  and  threatened  us  that  within  the 
•pace  of  two  days  we  should  pay  with  our  lives  the 


CORTE2.  281 

death  of  their  king  and  the  dishonour  of  their 
gods,  adding  that  they  had  chosen  a  sovereign 
whom  we  could  not  deceive  as  we  had  done  the 
good  Montezuma." 

Little  reason  as  there  was  to  hope  for  success  in 
such  an  attempt,  Cortez  determined  to  try  whether 
he  could  not  intimidate  the  Mexicans  into  obedi- 
ence by  an  extension  of  ravage  and  slaughter. 
His  plan  was  to  make  his  way  to  that  part  of  the 
city  which  contained  many  houses  built  upon  the 
firm  ground,  where  he  might  be  able  to  ride  down 
the  natives  and  burn  the  buildings.  He  did,  indeed, 
reach  the  selected  spot,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of 
destroying  about  twenty  houses.  This  achieve- 
ment, however,  cost  him  twenty  men  killed,  and  was 
productive  of  no  benefit  whatever;  he  could  not 
get  possession  of  a  single  bridge  on  the  causeway, 
and  his  cavalry  was  rendered  wholly  unavailing  by 
the  parapets  and  barricades  which  the  natives  had 
formed  to  check  its  progress.  After  several  hours 
of  fruitless  toil,  the  Spaniards,  harassed  and  dis. 
couraged,  returned  to  their  quarters. 

The  prospect  now  before  them  was  of  the  gloom- 
iest kind ;  their  attacks  had  uniformly  failed,  their 
offers  of  peace  were  scornfully  rejected,  their  num. 
bers  and  strength  were  hourly  wasting  away,  their 
powder  was  almost  exhausted,  their  provisions  and 
water  were  intercepted,  and  the  bridges  which  lay 
in  the  lina  of  their  retreat  had  been  broken  down  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  multitude  of  the  Mex- 
icans was  continually  increasing,  and  their  assaults 
were  growing  more  violent  and  well-directed.  No 
chance  of  safety  remained  but  in  escaping  silently 
by  night.  This  being  resolved  upon,  Cortez  or. 


282  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

dered  the  construction  of  a  portable  timber  bridge, 
for  the  purpose  of  being  thrown  over  the  canals 
that  intersected  the  causeway  of  Tacuba,  along 
which  he  meant  to  lead  his  troops.  The  Spanish 
and  Tlascalan  force  was  then  marshalled  in  com- 
pact order,  a  considerable  portion  of  the  best  sol- 
diers  being  selected  to  convey  the  bridge  and  form 
the  vanguard.  The  rear  was  brought  up  by  a 
body  of  infantry  and  a  strong  detachment  of  cav- 
alry, under  the  command  of  Alvarado  and  Velas- 
quez de  Leon. 

It  was  on  the  night  of  the  tenth  of  July,  which 
still  bears  the  expressive  appellation  of"  the  mourn- 
ful  night,"  that  Cortez  commenced  his  perilous  en- 
terprise :  its  result  Bernal  Diaz  shall  himself  de- 
scribe. "  A  little  before  midnight,  the  detachment 
which  took  charge  of  the  bridge  set  out  upon  its 
march,  and,  arriving  at  the  first  canal  or  aperture 
of  water,  it  was  thrown  across.  The  night  was 
dark  and  misty,  and  it  began  to  rain.  The  bridge 
being  fixed,  the  baggage,  artillery,  and  some  of  the 
cavalry  passed  over  it,  as  also  the  Tlascalans  with 
the  gold.  Sandoval  and  those  with  him  passed, 
also  Cortez  and  his  party  after  the  first,  and  many 
other  soldiers.  At  this  moment  the  trumpets  and 
shouts  of  the  enemy  were  heard,  and  the  alarm 
was  given  by  them,  crying  out,  '  Taltelulco,  Taltel- 
ulco,  out  with  your  canoes  :  the  Teules  are  going : 
attack  them  at  the  bridges.'  In  an  instant  the  en- 
emy were  upon  us  by  land,  and  the  lake  and  canals 
were  covered  with  their  canoes.  They  immediate- 
ly flew  to  the  bridges,  and  fell  on  us  there,  so  that 
they  entirely  intercepted  our  line  of  march.  As 
misfortunes  do  not  come  single,  it  also  rained  so 


CORTEZ.  283 

heavily  that  some  of  the  horses  were  terrified, 
and,  growing  restifF,  fell  into  the  water,  while  the 
bridge  was  broken  in  at  the  same  time.  The  en- 
erny  now  attacked  us  here  with  redoubled  fury,  and 
our  soldiers  making  a  stout  resistance,  the  aper- 
ture of  water  was  soon  filled  up  with  the  dead  and 
dying  men  and  horses,  and  those  who  were  strug- 
gling to  escape,  with  artillery,  packs  and  bales  of 
baggage,  and  those  who  carried  them.  Many 
were  drowned  here,  and  many  forced  into  the  ca- 
noes and  carried  off  for  sacrifice.  It  was  dreadful 
to  hear  the  cries  of  the  unfortunate  sufferers  call- 
ing for  assistance,  and  invoking  the  Holy  Virgin 
or  Saint  Jago,  while  others,  who  escaped  by  swim- 
ming or  by  clambering  upon  the  chests,  bales  of 
baggage,  and  dead  bodies,  earnestly  begged  for 
help  to  get  up  to  the  causeway.  Many,  who  on 
their  reaching  the  ground  thought  themselves  safe, 
were  there  seized  or  knocked  on  the  head  with  clubs. 
"  Whatever  of  regularity  there  had  been  in  the 
march  at  first  had  now  entirely  disappeared ;  for 
Cortez  and  the  captains  and  soldiers  who  were 
mounted  clapped  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  gallop- 
ed off  along  the  causeway  ;  nor  can  I  blame  them, 
for  the  cavalry  could  do  nothing  against  the  enemy 
of  any  effect ;  since,  when  they  attacked  them,  the 
latter  threw  themselves  into  the  water  on  each  side 
of  the  causeway,  and  others  from  the  houses  with 
arrows,  or  on  the  ground  with  large  lances,  killed 
the  horses.  It  is  evident  we  could  make  no  battle 
with  them  in  the  water,  and  without  powder,  and  in 
the  night,  what  else  could  we  do  than  we  did? 
which  was,  to  join  in  bodies  of  thirty  or  forty  sol- 
diers, and  when  the  Indians  closed  upon  us,  to 
Y 


284  PERILOUS    ADVEiTURES 

drive  them  off  with  a  few  cuts  and  thrusts  of  our 
swords,  and  then  hurry  on  to  get  over  the  cause- 
way as  soon  as  we  could.  As  to  waiting  for  one 
another,  that  would  have  lost  us  all ;  and  had  it 
happened  in  the  daytime,  things  would  have  been 
even  worse  with  us  than  they  were.  The  escape 
of  such  as  were  fortunate  enough  to  effect  it  was 
owing  to  God's  mercy,  who  gave  us  force  to  do  so  ; 
for  the  very  sight  of  the  number  of  the  enemy  who 
surrounded  us,  and  carried  off  our  companions  in 
their  canoes  to  sacrifice,  was  terrible.  About  fifty 
of  us,  soldiers  of  Cortez,  and  some  of  those  of  Nar- 
vaez,  went  together  in  a  body  by  the  causeway  : 
every  now  and  then  parties  of  Indians  came  up, 
calling  us  Luilones,  a  term  of  reproach,  and  at- 
tempting to  seize  us,  while  we,  when  we  came 
within  their  reach,  faced  about,  repelling  them  whh 
a  few  thrusts  of  our  swords,  and  then  hurried  on. 
"Thus  we  proceeded  until  we  reached  the  firm 
ground  near  Tacuba,  where  Cortez,  Sandoval,  De 
Oli,  Salcedo,  Dominguez,  Lares,  and  others  of  the 
cavalry,  with  such  of  the  infantry  soldiers  as  had 
crossed  the  bridge  before  it  was  destroyed,  were 
already  arrived.  -When  we  came  near  them  we 
heard  the  voices  of  Sandoval,  De  OH,  and  De  Mor- 
la  calling  to  Cortez,  who  was  riding  at  their  head, 
that  he  should  turn  about  and  assist  those  who  were 
coming  along  the  causeway,  and  who  complained 
that  he  had  abandoned  them.  Cortez  replied  that 
those  who  had  escaped  owed  it  to  a  miracle,  and 
if  they  should  return  to  the  bridges  all  would  lose 
their  lives.  Notwithstanding,  he,  with  ten  or  twelve 
of  the  cavalry,  and  some  of  the  infantry  who  had 
escaped  unhurt,  marched  back,  and,  proceeding 


CORTEZ.  285 

e  causeway,  had  gone  but  a  very  short  dis- 
tance, wnf;n  they  met  P.  de  Akvarado  with  his  lance 
in  his>  hand,  baaiy  wounded  and  on  foot,  for  his 
chestnut  mare  had  been  killed  :  he  had  with  him 
three  or  four  of  our  soldiers,  and  four  of  those  of 
Narvaez,  all  severely  wounded,  and  eight  Tlasca- 
lans  covered  with  blood."  These  seven  Europeans 
were  the  sad  remains  of  more  than  two  hundred 
who  had  formed  the  rear  guard.  Eight  hundred 
and  seventy  Spaniards  and  thirteen  hundred  Tlas- 
calans  perished  on  this  dismal  night  and  in  thp 
struggles  of  the  preceding  days. 

Though  the  survivers  were  now  out  of  the  city, 
they  were  still  in  imminent  danger.  The  victori- 
ous Mexicans  had  already  despatched  messages  to 
the  neighbouring  towns,  calling  upon  the  people  to 
take  up  arms  and  intercept  their  retreat.  The 
call  was  willingly  obeyed,  and  the  worn-out  and 
wounded  Spaniards  were  soon  assailed  by  multi- 
tudes with  stones,  arrows,  and  pikes,  the  heads  of 
the  latter  being  formed  of  the  swords  that  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  Mexicans  on  the  preceding 
night.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  some  arrows  had 
been  made  for  the  few  remaining  crossbows,  and 
a  few  rags  had  been  hastily  swathed  round  the  hurts 
of  the  wounded  men,  Cortez  resolved  to  commence 
his  retreat  to  Tlascala,  the  only  quarter  where  he 
could  expect  any  succour.  He  was,  indeed,  not 
without  distressing  fears  that  his  reverse  of  for- 
tune might  cause  the  Tlascalans  to  turn  against 
him.  There  was,  however,  no  other  resource  for 
him,  ar.d  he  accordingly  set  forward  with  his  de- 
jected  troops.  The  wounded  were  placed  in  the 
centre  •  some  were  helped  along  between  two  men ; 


286  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

the  cripples  supported  themselves  on  crut  thes  and 
those  who  were  utterly  helpless  were  mounted  on 
the  lame  horses.  The  few  cavalry  which  were  lit 
for  service  were  distributed  in  front  and  on  the 
flanks.  In  this  miserable  condition  they  silently 
quitted  Tacuba  at  midnight,  avoiding  the  high  road, 
and  being  guided  by  a  few  faithful  Tlascalans  who 
were  well  acquainted  with  the  country.  Their 
march  was  not  long  unknown  to  the  enemy ;  they 
were  followed  by  crowds,  who  incessantly  showered 
on  them  missiles  of  various  kinds,  reviled  them  in 
the  most  opprobrious  terms,  and  exultingly  exclaim- 
ed that  they  were  "  going  to  meet  their  destruc- 
tion." Several  of  the  Spaniards  were  wounded 
and  some  were  slain  in  these  desultory  encounters, 
which  were  prolonged  for  three  days  with  continu- 
ally increasing  violence.  On  the  evening  of  the 
third  day,  after  having  momentarily  repulsed  the 
enemy,  the  Spaniards  halted  at  some  villages,  and 
were  glad  to  appease  their  hunger  on  the  remains 
of  a  horse  that  had  been  killed. 

The  meaning  of  the  mysterious  threats  which 
their  pursuers  had  uttered  was  startlingly  revealed 
to  them  on  the  following  morning.  They  set  out 
early,  and,  having  marched  a  league  without  being 
attacked,  were  beginning  to  hope  they  might  con- 
tinue their  retreat  unmolested.  They  were  soon 
undeceived,  however,  by  the  hasty  return  of  their 
videttes,  who  brought  the  fearful  tidings  that  the 
neighbouring  plains  of  Otumba  were  entirely  cov- 
ered  with  a  hostile  army.  As  they  moved  onward, 
the  whole  multitudinous  array  of  their  adversaries 
became  visible.  It  was  a  gorgeous  but  terrible 
sight.  There,  confident  in  their  numbers,  and  re- 


CORTEZ.  287 

solved  to  exterminate  the  hated  invaders,  stood  the 
entire  military  population  of  all  the  districts  bor- 
dering on  the  Lake  of  Mexico,  headed  by  their 
chiefs,  who  were  magnificently  armed,  adorned 
with  devices  and  waving  plumes,  and  glittering 
with  gold. 

Full  of  anxiety,  but  undismayed,  Cortez  ordered 
a  halt  to  prepare  for  battle.  The  cavalry  were 
divided  into  parties  of  five,  and  were  directed  to 
charge  at  half  speed,  and  to  point  their  lances  at 
the  faces  of  their  enemies.  The  foot  were  also 
divided  into  parties,  and  were  told  to  thrust  with 
their  swords,  and  to  pass  them  clear  through  the 
bodies  of  their  opponents.  The  whole  band  then 
commended  themselves  to  God,  the  Holy  Virgin, 
and  St.  Jago,  and  vowed  that  they  would  at  least 
sell  their  lives  at  as  dear  a  rate  as  possible. 

By  this  time  the  enemy  had  begun  to  surround 
them,  and  Cortez  gave  the  signal  for  his  troops  to 
rush  forward.  The  combatants  speedily  came  in 
contact,  and  the  shock  was  dreadful.  "  Oh  what 
it  was  to  see  this  tremendous  battle  !"  exclaims 
Bernal  Diaz.  "  How  we  closed  foot  to  foot,  and 
with  what  fury  the  dogs  fought  us !  Such  wound- 
ing as  there  was  among  us  with  their  lances  and 
clubs,  and  two-handed  swords,  while  our  cavalry, 
favoured  by  the  plain  ground,  rode  through  them 
at  will,  galloping  at  half  speed,  and  bearing  down 
their  opponents  with  couched  lances,  still  fighting 
manfully,  though  they  and  their  horses  were  all 
wounded  ;  and  we  of  the  infantry,  negligent  of  our 
former  hurts,  and  of  those  which  we  now  received, 
closed  with  the  enemy,  redoubling  our  efforts  to 
bear  them  down  with  our  swords.  Cortez,  De  Olit 


288  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

Alvarado  mounted  on  a  horse  of  one  of  the  soldiers 
of  Narvaez,  and  Sandoval,  though  all  wounded, 
continued  to  ride  through  them.  Then  to  hear  the 
valiant  Sandoval,  how  he  encouraged  us,  crying 
out,  '  Now,  gentlemen,  is  the  day  of  victory ;  put 
your  trust  in  God  ;  we  shall  survive,  for  he  pre- 
serves us  for  some  good  purpose.'  All  the  sol- 
diers were  determined  to  conquer ;  and  thus  ani- 
mated as  we  were  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
our  Lady  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  also  by  St.  Jago, 
who  undoubtedly  assisted  us,  as  certified  by  a  chief 
of  Guatimotzin  who  was  present  in  the  battle, 
we  continued,  notwithstanding  many  had  received 
wounds,  and  some  of  our  companions  were  killed, 
to  maintain  our  ground." 

Cortez  now  called  to  the  troops  to  strike  espe- 
cially at  the  chiefs.  He  himself,  accompanied  by 
Alvarado,  Sandoval,  and  others  of  his  principal 
followers,  bore  furiously  down  upon  that  part  of  the 
adverse  army  where  its  commanding  general  was 
stationed.  The  Mexican  leader  was  rendered  con- 
spicuous by  his  splendid  standard,  his  armour  cov- 
ered with  gold,  and  his  large  plume,  which  glitter- 
ed with  the  same  precious  material.  Though 
there  was  not  one  of  the  Spanish  officers  who  was 
not  already  wounded,  they  charged  upon  their  en- 
emies with  a  vigour  that  was  irresistible.  The 
Mexican  chief  and  the  standard  were  beaten  to  the 
ground  by  the  horse  of  Cortez ;  the  chief  fled,  but 
he  was  pursued  and  slain  by  Juan  de  Salamanca, 
who  tore  from  his  head  the  rich  plume  and  pre- 
sented it  to  Cortez,  saying  that,  as  he  had  given 
the  first  blow  and  overthrown  the  standard,  this 
trophy  was  justly  due  to  him. 


CORTEZ.  289 

The  fall  of  their  leader,  and  of  many  of  the  mi- 
ri  »r  chiefs,  spread  discouragement  among  the  Mex- 
icans. Their  efforts  became  faint,  and  at  length 
tiey  lost  heart  entirely,  and  began  to  retreat.  "  As 
soon  as  this  was  perceived  by  us,"  says  Bernai 
Eiaz,  "  we  forgot  our  hunger,  thirst,  fatigue,  and 
wounds,  and  thought  of  nothing  but  victory  and 
pursuit.  Our  cavalry  followed  them  up  close,  and 
oir  allies,  now  become  lions,  mowed  down  all  be- 
fo.-e  them  with  the  arms  which  the  enemy  threw 
away  in  their  flight.  As  soon  as  our  cavalry  re« 
turned  from  the  pursuit,  we  all  gave  thanks  to  God  ; 
for  never  had  there  appeared  so  great  a  force  to- 
gether  in  that  country,  being  the  whole  of  the  war- 
riors of  Mexico,  Tezcuco,  and  Saltocan,  all  deter- 
mined not  to  leave  a  trace  of  us  upon  the  earth." 

Rejoicing  at  their  deliverance,  the  Spaniards 
continued  their  march  towards  Tlascala.  Their 
hunger  they  satisfied  by  eating  a  kind  of  gourd 
called  ayotes,  which  they  found  on  their  way  ;  for, 
notwithstanding  their  victory,  they  could  not  ven- 
ture to  deviate  from  their  route  in  search  of  pro- 
visions. The  enemy  still  showed  themselves  at  a 
distance,  tracking  their  footsteps,  and  when  they 
halted  for  the  night  disturbing  their  rest  by  occa- 
sional manifestations  of  hostility.  The  European 
soldiers  of  Cortez  being  now  reduced  to  four  hun- 
dred and  forty  men,  he  thought  it  necessary  to  cau- 
tion them  against  giving  offence  to  the  people  of 
Tlascala.  as  any  misconduct  might  deprive  them  of 
an  ally  who  was,  perhaps,  already  wavering.  This 
caution  was  more  particularly  intended  for  the  sol- 
diers of  Narvaez,  whose  notions  of  discipline  were 
anything  but  rigid. 

24—19 


290  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

/ 

On  the  Spaniards  reaching  the  Tiascalan  fron- 
tier, the  Mexicans  desisted  from  following  and  em- 
barrassing their  movements.  Cortez  had  now  the 
satisfaction  to  find  that  his  allies  had  not  beea 
alienated  by  his  disastrous  retreat  from  Mexicc. 
Their  deadly  hatred  of  the  Mexicans,  seconded, 
no  doubt,  by  the  success  at  Otumba,  had  kept  then 
steady  in  their  alliance.  There  were,  indeed,  some 
few,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  the  younger  Xico- 
tenga,  a  son  of  one  of  the  leading  chiefs,  who  hid 
discernment  enough  to  be  aware  that  the  new 
friends  of  the  Tlascalans  were  far  more  unprinci- 
pled and  more  dangerous  than  their  ancient  ene- 
mies, and  who  would  fain  have  seized  this  oppor- 
tunity to  rid  themselves  of  such  pernicious  confed- 
erates. But  a  vast  majority  of  the  Tiascalan 
chiefs  were  blind  to  the  future,  and  they  received 
Cortez  with  enthusiasm,  and  lavished  their  hospita- 
ble attentions  on  his  sick,  weary,  and  wounded  sol- 
diers. 

Some  months  elapsed  before  Cortez  found  him- 
self in  a  condition  to  venture  upon  an  attempt  to 
recover  the  Mexican  capital.  For  a  while,  indeed, 
after  his  retreat  from  Mexico,  his  force  continued 
to  diminish.  Most  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  of 
Narvaez,  who  had  come  to  the  country  with  san- 
guine expectations  of  amassing  wealth  without  en- 
countering  danger  and  difficulty,  were  thoroughly 
disgusted  with  the  perils  and  sufferings  which  had 
beset  them,  and  they  clamoured  incessantly  to  be 
allowed  to  return  to  Cuba.  Cortez  at  length  con- 
sented to  their  departure  ;  not,  however,  till  he  had 
managed  to  derive  some  benefit  from  their  reluc- 
tant  services.  When  some  of  his  trusty  followers 


CORTEZ.  29J 

remonstrated  with  him  on  his  permitting  such  num- 
bers to  quit  them  while  their  army  was  so  weak, 
he  replied,  with  equal  spirit  and  wisdom,  that  "  he 
did  it  partly  to  get  rid  of  their  importunities,  and 
partly  because  they  were  not  fit  for  war;  and  that 
it  was  better  to  be  alone  than  badly  accompanied." 
He  even  provided  for  their  comfort  during  the  voy- 
age, and  dismissed  them  with  considerable  larges- 
ses. The  sagacious  chief  calculated  that  his  gen- 
erosity, and  the  sight  of  the  Mexican  gold,  would 
be  more  powerful  to  attract  volunteers  to  his  stand, 
ard,  than  would  prove  the  gloomy  pictures  drawn 
by  the  deserters  to  dissuade  them  from  it.  The 
result  was  such  as  he  anticipated.  Arrivals  of 
ships,  with  re-enforcements  of  men  and  stores,  were 
already  taking  place,  and  those  arrivals  were  soon 
increased  in  number  and  magnitude.  Yet,  even 
before  his  army  was  sufficiently  strengthened  to 
act  against  the  capital,  Cortez  was  not  idle. 
Though  he  could  not  aim  at  the  heart  of  his  ene- 
my, he  could  lop  off  the  members,  and  rally  round 
him  those  who  were  willing  to  assist  in  giving  the 
final  blow.  Several  of  the  outlying  provinces  were 
reduced  to  obedience  by  the  Spanish  leader,  and 
some  were  drawn  into  league  with  him ;  and  his 
accomplishment  of  this  was  facilitated  by  the  dis- 
orderly conduct  of  the  Mexican  troops,  who  robbed 
and  insulted  the  people  whom  they  were  sent  to 
defend.  To  strike  terror  into  the  refractory,  a 
measure  was  adopted  of  the  most  iniquitous  kind, 
which  was  productive  of  direful  consequences  to 
the  unfortunate  natives.  A  decree  was  issue  1  that 
all  the  Mexicans  and  allies  of  the  Mexicans  who, 
after  having  "  given  obedience"  to  his  majesty,  had 
Z  . 


292  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

killed  Spanish  subjects,  should  be  reduced  to  a 
state  of  slavery.  The  letter  G  (for  guerra.  war) 
was  to  be  branded  with  a  hot  iron  on  these  wretch- 
ed victims,  who  had  had  the  "contumacy"  to  resist 
a  handful  of  European  robbers.  The  restriction 
to  those  who  had  given  obedience  was  manifestly 
inserted  only  for  the  purpose  of  deception,  and  was 
soon  disregarded. 

By  December  Cortez  had  received  such  consid- 
erable re-enforcements,  both  of  Spaniards  and  na- 
lives,  and  had  accumulated  such  a  stock  of  the 
materials  of  warfare,  that  he  began  to  prepare 
for  commencing  his  operations  against  Mexico. 
There  was,  however,  little  chance  of  his  succeed- 
ing, unless  he  could  secure  the  command  of  the 
lake  by  which  that  city  was  surrounded.  To  ef- 
fect, this  desirable  object,  he  ordered  the  frames  of 
thirteeen  brigantines  to  be  constructed  in  the  coun- 
try of  Tlascala.  which  were  to  be  carried  piece- 
meal overland,  and  re-put  together  and  launched 
on  the  Lake  of  Mexico.  By  this  means  he  might 
reasonably  hope  to  hold  the  city  closely  invested, 
and  ultimately  reduce  it  by  famine  if  force  should 
fail.  The  work  was  carried  on  with  such  good- 
will,  that  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  whole  of 
the  timbers  were  cut  down,  shaped,  and  numbered, 
in  order  that  they  might  easily  be  fitted  together 
when  they  reached  their  destination. 

Coadlavaca,  the  successor  of  Montezuma,  having 
died  of  smallpox  shortly  after  the  expulsion  of  the 
Spaniards,  the  crown  of  Mexico  was  now  worn  by 
Guatimotzin.  "He  was  a  young  man  of  about 
the  age  of  twenty-five,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  of  el- 
egant appearance,  very  brave,  and  so  terrible  to 


CORTEZ.  293 

his  own  subjects  that  they  all  trembcd  at  the  sight 
of  him."  The  new  sovereign  was  aware  that  the 
strife  would  be  a  deadly  one,  and  he  was  not  slack 
in  making  ready  to  meet  it.  The  capital  was  put 
into  a  state  of  defence,  the  lake  was  crowded  with 
canoes,  every  nerve  was  strained  to  bring  the  peo- 
ple into  the  field,  and  troops  were  despatched  to 
various  quarters  to  encourage  the  loyal,  repress  the 
disaffected,  and  impede  the  progress  of  the  foe. 
But  the  efforts  of  the  monarch  were  partly  neutral- 
ized by  the  inveterate  enmity  of  the  Tlascalans  and 
other  neighbouring  tribes,  the  discontent  which 
prevailed  in  many  of  the  provinces,  and  the  dread- 
ful  ravages  of  the  smallpox,  which  contributed 
much  to  prevent  his  armies  from  assembling. 

It  was  on  the  28th  of  December,  1520,  that  the 
Spaniards  under  Cortez,  accompanied  by  ten  thou- 
sand Tlascalan  allies,  commenced  their  march  to- 
wards Tezcuco.  At  that  city,  which  was  seated 
on  the  side  of  the  lake  opposite  to  Mexico,  the 
Spanish  general  determined  to  fix,  for  the  present, 
his  headquarters.  Though  the  bad  roads  through 
the  mountain. passes  had  been  rendered  worse  by 
cuts,  dikes,  and  felled  trees,  so  little  active  resist- 
ance was  made  by  the  Mexicans  that  the  invaders 
reached  Tezcuco  without  any  loss.  There  Cortez 
was  welcomed  by  a  party  adverse  to  the  reigning 
prince,  and  he  strengthened  himself  by  raising  to 
the  sovereignty  a  youth  on  whose  subservience  he 
could  rely. 

The  first  operation  undertaken  by  the  Spaniards 
did  not  terminate  in  an  encouraging  wanner.  It 
was  directed  against  Iztapalapa,  a  town  on  the 
southern  shore  of  th°  ^ake,  on  the  way  to  the  Mex- 


294  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

lean  capital.  "  Coadlavaca,  late  upon  the  throne  of 
Mexico,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  was  lord  of  Iztapalapa, 
the  people  whereof  were  bitter  enemies  to  us,  and  to 
our  declared  allies  of  Chalco,  Talmalanco,  Mecam- 
eca,  and  Chimaloacan.  As  we  had  been  twelve 
days  in  Tezcuco,  so  large  a  force  caused  some 
scarcity  of  provisions  ;  idleness  had  also  made  our 
allies  grow  impatient,  and  for  these  reasons  it  be- 
came necessary  to  take  the  field.  Cortez  there- 
fore proceeded  towards  Iztapalapa  at  the  head  of 
thirteen  cavalry,  two  hundred  and  twenty  infantry, 
and  the  whole  body  of  our  Indian  confederates. 
The  inhabitants  had  received  a  re-enforcement  of 
eight  thousand  Mexicans,  and  as  we  approached 
they  fell  back  into  the  town.  But  this  was  all  a 
concerted  plan  :  they  then  fled  into  their  canoes, 
among  the  reeds  by  the  side  of  the  lake,  and  also 
to  those  houses  which  were  in  the  water,  where 
they  remained  quiet,  leaving  us  in  possession  of 
that  part  of  the  town  which  was  on  the  firm  land. 
As  it  was  now  night,  we  posted  our  guard,  and  were 
reposing  contentedly  in  our  quarters,  when  all  on  a 
sudden  there  came  on  us  such  a  body  of  water  by 
the  streets  and  into  the  houses,  that  if  our  friends 
from  Tezcuco  had  not  called  to  us  at  that  moment, 
we  should  inevitably  have  been  all  drowned ;  for 
the  enemy  had  cut  the  banks  of  the  canals,  and  also 
a  causeway,  whereby  the  place  was  laid  under  water 
as  it  were  instantaneously.  As  it  happened,  only 
two  of  our  allies  lost  their  lives  ;  but  all  our  pow- 
der was  destroyed,  and  we  wer?  glad  to  escape 
with  a  good  wetting.  We  passed  the  night  badly 
enough,  being  supperless  and  very  cold  ;  but  what 
provoked  us  most  was  the  laughter  and  mockings 


CORTEZ.  295 

of  the  Indians  upon  the  lake.  Worse  tl^an  this, 
however,  happened  to  us,  for  large  bodies  fron  the 
garrison  of  Mexico,  who  knew  of  the  plan,  crossed 
the  water  and  fell  upon  us  at  daybreak  with  such 
violence  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  sustain 
their  attacks.  They  killed  two  soldiers  and  one 
of  our  horses,  and  wounded  a  great  many.  Oui 
allies  also  suffered  a  considerable  loss  on  this  oc 
casion.  The.  enemy  being  at  length  beaten  off,  we 
returned  to  Tezcuco  in  very  bad  humour,  having 
acquired  little  fame  or  advantage  by  our  expedi- 
tion/' 

This  check  was,  however,  counterbalanced  by 
the  voluntary  submission  of  several  neighbouring 
districts,  while  the  Mexicans  were  worsted  in  va- 
rious skirmishes.  The  materials  for  the  brigan- 
tines  being  now  ready  in  the  country  of  the  Tlas- 
calans,  Sandoval,  with  a  considerable  detachment 
of  Spaniards  and  natives,  was  despatched  to  that 
quarter,  to  disperse  such  of  the  enemy's  forces  aa 
might  be  in  wait  to  interrupt  the  passage  of  the 
convoy.  On  his  way  to  the  Tlascalan  capital  he 
fell  in  with  the  Indians  who  were  transporting  the 
timber  to  Tezcuco.  Eight  thousand  men  were  em- 
ployed  in  this  service,  as  many  more  guarded  them, 
and  two  thousand  were  destined  to  relieve  the 
weary,  and  carry  provisions  for  them  all.  The 
line  of  march  sometimes  extended  for  six  miles, 
over  a  mountainous  tract,  and  the  whole  distance 
extended  to  sixty.  The  party,  nevertheless,  arrived 
safely  at  Tezcuco,  and  the  putting  together  of  the 
vessels  was  immediately  commenced.  While  their 
building  was  going  on,  it  was  necessary  to  keep  a 
strict  watch ;  for,  clearly  aware  of  the  danger  to  be 


296  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

apprehended  from  them,  the  Mexicans  made  three 
attempts  to  set  them  on  fire. 

As  some  time  must  yet  elapse  before  the  brigan- 
tines  could  be  completed,  and  as  his  Tlascalan  allies 
were  eager  for  plunder,  Cortez  resolved  upon  an  ex- 
pedition  against  some  of  the  towns  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  lake.  Saltocan  was  taken,  though  not  with- 
out  encountering  much  resistance.  Culvatitlan  and 
Tenayuco  were  abandoned  by  the  natives  ;  and  the 
invaders  marched  to  Tacuba,  which  stood  at  the  ex. 
tremity  of  one  of  the  causeways  leading  to  the  city 
of  Mexico.  But  here  they  met  with  a  repulse  : 
"  In  this  town  our  troops  halted  for  the  night,"  says 
Bernal  Diaz,  "  and  on  the  next  day  they  were  as- 
sailed by  bodies  of  the  enemy,  who  had  settled  a 
plan  to  retreat  by  this  causeway,  in  order  to  draw 
us  into  an  ambuscade.  This  in  part  succeeded  : 
Cortez  and  our  troops  pursued  them  across  a  bridge, 
and  were  immediately  surrounded  by  vast  numbers 
both  on  the  land  and  water.  The  ensign  was 
thrown  over  the  bridge,  and  the  Mexicans  were 
dragging  him  to  their  canoes,  yet  he  escaped  from 
them  with  his  colours  in  his  hand.  In  this  attack 
they  killed  five  of  our  soldiers,  and  wounded  many. 
Cortez  perceived  his  imprudence,  and  ordered  a  re- 
treat,  which  was  effected  with  regularity,  our  people 
fronting  the  enemy,  and  only  giving  ground  inch  by 
inch."  After  having  halted  for  five  days  af  Tacuba, 
Cortez  fell  baci?  to  Tezcuco,  and  allowed  his  allies 
to  return  home  for  the  purpose  of  securing  their 
plunder. 

At  this  moment  Cortez  had  quite  enough  upon 
his  hands.  His  troops  were  grown  sickly,  many 
of  them  were  for  a  time  disabled  by  wounds,  anc 


CORTEZ.  297 

re-enforcements  arrived  but  slowly.  The  Mexi- 
cans, on  the  other  hand,  were  actively  exerting 
themselves,  and  he  was  daily  importuned  by  the 
tribes  in  alliance  with  him,  who  "  came  with  paint- 
ed representations  of  the  outrages  committed  on 
them  by  the  Mexicans,  and  imploring  succour." 
All  he  could  immediately  do  for  them  was  to  prom- 
ise  future  aid,  advising  them  in  the  mean  time  to  rely 
more  on  their  own  exertions,  and  to  unite  with  their 
neighbours  against  the  common  enemy.  As  soon, 
however,  as  his  army  was  somewhat  refreshed  and 
augmented,  he  began  to  act  with  greater  vigour. 
The  Mexicans  had  directed  their  exertions  against 
the  province  of  Chalco,  with  the  view  of  interrupt- 
ing his  communication  with  Tlascala  and  the  sea- 
coast.  To  frustrate  this  scheme,  Sandoval  was 
despatched  from  Tezcuco  on  the  12th  of  March 
with  a  considerable  force.  He  found  the  enemy 
posted  at  a  large  town  called  Guaztepeque.  San- 
doval did  indeed  obtain  transient  possession  of 
the  place,  and  this  was  all ;  nor  did  he  accomplish 
even  this  without  a  hard  struggle  and  serious  loss. 
The  Mexicans  fought  bravely,  returned  often  to 
the  charge  in  the  course  of  the  day,  retreated  only 
a  short  distance,  and  were  not  pursued.  Some 
slaves,  and  a  tolerable  portion  of  plunder,  were  all 
the  trophies  that  Sandoval  carried  back  to  Tezcuco. 
He  was  no  sooner  gone  than  the  province  of  Chalco 
was  more  in  jeopardy  than  ever. 

A  seasonable  supply  of  arms  and  ammunition  hav- 
ing arrived  from  Spain,  Cortez  resolved  to  march  in 
person  to  clear  the  district  of  Chalco,  and  recon- 
noitre the  country  in  its  neighbourhood.  He  took 
with  him  three  hundred  infantry,  thirty  cavOry,  and 


298  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES 

a  large  body  of  auxiliary  Indians.  On  reaching 
Chimalacoan  he  was  joined  by  above  twenty  thou- 
sand native  warriors,  of  whom  Bernal  Diaz  bluntly 
and  no  doubt  truly  says,  "  they  certainly  were  at- 
tracted by  the  hope  of  spoil,  and  a  voracious  appe- 
tite for  human  flesh  ;  just  as  the  scald  crows  and 
other  birds  of  prey  follow  armies  in  Italy,  in  ordei 
to  feed  on  the  dead  bodies  after  a  battle." 

It  was  the  intention  of  Cortez  to  proceed  from 
Chalco  along  the  southern  end  of  the  lesser  lake  to 
Suchemileco,  at  the  southwestern  extremity  of  it, 
and  thence,  as  far  as  he  might  find  expedient,  to- 
wards the  principal  lake.  In  pursuance  of  this  de- 
sign, he  moved  from  Chalco  to  Guaztepeque,  which 
he  found  deserted.  The  Mexicans  had  taken  up 
an  excellent  position  in  the  vicinity  among  the  rocks, 
and  in  two  fortresses  on  the  summits,  the  route  of 
the  Spaniards  lying  between  two  ridges  of  these 
rocks.  On  approaching  one  of  the  rude  forts, 
which  was  crowded  with  troops,  they  were  greet- 
ed with  showers  of  stones  and  arrows,  and  with 
shouts  and  insulting  appellations.  Stung  by  their 
gibes,  Cortez,  with  less  of  prudence  than  beseemed 
a  leader,  gave  orders  for  storming  the  post ;  but  he 
had  soon  reason  to  repent  his  being  so  hasty. 
While  the  Spaniards  were  vainly  striving  to  scale 
the  rugged  precipices,  their  adversaries  were  roll- 
ing down  upon  them  ponderous  masses  of  rock 
with  irresistible  effect.  Against  these  missiles  no 
protection  was  afforded  by  helmet  or  shield  ;  where- 
ever  they  struck,  they  inflicted  death  or  desperate 
wounds.  Such  was  their  force,  that  even  on  the 
plain  three  of  the  cavalry  were  killed  by  them, 
and  seven  severely  hurt.  The  troops  were  there. 


CORTEZ.  299 

fore  withdrawn  from  this  unadvised  and  hopeless 
attack. 

Leaving  behind  them  this  formidable  post,  the 
Spaniards  continued  their  march.  But  the  Mexi- 
cans, who  had  been  lying  in  ambush,  now  sallied 
forth  upon  them,  and  harassed  them  much  before 
they  were  repelled.  Cortez  had  not  gone  more 
than  a  league  and  a  half  when  he  found  his  pas- 
sage barred  by  another  fort,  similar  to  that  from 
which  he  had  just  been  repulsed.  The  men  and 
horses  were  by  this  time  nearly  sinking  for  want  of 
water,  having  had  none  during  the  day,  and  Cortez 
therefore  retraced  his  footsteps  in  the  hope  of  find- 
ing  some.  The  labour  was,  however,  lost ;  for 
the  wells  had  been  drained  by  the  enemy,  and 
nothing  but  mud  was  left.  The  Spaniards  were 
now  obliged  to  return  towards  the  second  fort, 
near  which,  in  a  grove  of  mulberry  trees,  they  at 
last  found  a  spring,  from  which  they  procured  a 
scanty  but  welcome  supply.  On  the  following 
morning  Cortez  gave  orders  for  an  assault  of  the 
mountain  fastness.  But  in  this  instance  he  had 
taken  the  precaution  of  placing  a  body  of  crossbow- 
men  and  musketeers  upon  a  rock  which  partly 
commanded  it,  so  as  to  distract  the  attention  of  the 
garrison.  The  troops  who  were  laboriously  climb- 
ing  up  the  rocks  were,  however,  suffering  much 
from  the  descending  masses  of  stone,  when,  to 
their  great  joy,  they  heard  the  besieged  offer  to 
parley.  It  was  no  fear  of  their  enemy,  however, 
but  the  utter  privation  of  water,  which  induced 
the  Mexicans  to  make  this  offer.  Cortez  was  glad 
to  let  them  depart  unharreed,  on  condition  that  they 
should  prevail  on  the  defenders  of  the  other  fort  to 


300  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

follow  their  example.  Bernal  Diaz  describes  th?« 
post  as  an  extensive  plain  on  the  summit  of  a  nearl) 
perpendicular  rock,  the  entrance  to  which  was  by 
an  aperture  not  much  larger  than  twice  the  size 
of  an  oven's  mouth.  It  was  completely  filled  with 
men,  women,  and  children,  with  all  their  property 
packed  up  in  bales,  and  a  considerable  tribute  which 
was  about  to  be  sent  to  Guatimotzin. 

Though  he  had  removed  these  obstacles,  Cortez 
was  under  the  necessity  of  falling  back  to  Guaz- 
tepeque,  there  being  no  water  procurable  at  any 
nearer  place.  On  the  morrow  they  pursued  their 
march  towards  Cuernabaca,  and  on  their  way  de- 
feated a  body  of  Mexicans,  and  pillaged  and  partly 
jurned  the  town  of  Teputzlan.  They  arrived  next 
day  in  sight  of  Cuernabaca,  but  access  to  it  was 
not  of  easy  attainment.  It  was  situated  behind  a 
ravine  of  great  depth,  at  the  bottom  of  which  flow, 
ed  a  stream  of  water.  The  two  bridges  across 
the  ravine  had  been  destroyed  by  the  inhabitants. 
"  We  all  searched  for  passes,"  says  Diaz,  "  and  at 
length  discovered  a  very  dangerous  one,  over  some 
trees  which  hung  across  from  the  two  opposite 
sides  of  the  ravine.  About  thirty  of  us,  and  many 
Tlascalans,  made  our  way  over  by  the  help  of  those 
trees  with  great  difficulty :  three  fell  into  the  wa- 
ter, and  one  broke  his  leg.  It  was,  indeed,  a  truly 
frightful  attempt ;  I  for  a  time  entirely  lost  my 
sight  from  the  depth  and  danger."  An  attack  un- 
expectedly made  on  the  enemy's  flank  by  these  des* 
perate  adventurers,  seconded  by  a  party  of  cavalry 
which  had  contrived  to  pass  over  a  half-destroyed 
bridge,  gave  the  Spaniards  possession  of  the  town. 

All  that  the  Spaniards  had  as  yet  undergone  was, 


CORTEZ.  301 

however,  but  child's  play  in  comparison  with  that 
which  awaited  them.  The  march  to  Suchimileco 
was  an  exceedingly  painful  one.  The  weather  was 
intolerably  sultry,  not  a  drop  of  water  was  to  be 
procured,  and  many  of  the  soldiers  fainted  and  some 
expired  on  the  road  from  the  want  of  it.  Numbers 
were  seized  with  inflammation  of  the  mouth  and 
throat,  iu  consequence  of  their  having  chewed  a 
noxious  species  of  thistle  to  alleviate  their  thirst. 
A  scanty  supply  of  the  precious  fluid  was  at  last 
obtained.  News  was  now  brought  that  the  country 
was  everywhere  rising  around  them,  and  the  army 
was  therefore  halted  for  the  night :  it  spent  the 
hours  of  darkness  amid  a  storm  of  wind  and  rain, 
and  in  momentary  expectation  of  being  called  into 
action. 

Early  the  next  morning  Cortez  reached  Suchi. 
mileco.  This  large  city  stood  partly  on  the  land, 
and  partly,  like  other  Mexican  towns,  in  the  water. 
"  I  can  give  no  idea,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  of  the 
number  of  the  enemy's  troops  that  were  gathered 
here,  they  were  in  such  vast  bodies.  They  had 
broken  down  the  bridge  which  was  in  front,  and 
fortified  themselves  with  parapets  and  palisades  ; 
their  leaders  were  armed  with  swords  which  they 
had  taken  from  us  in  the  fatal  night  of  Mexico,  and 
which  they  had  polished  and  made  very  bright." 
The  combat  was  speedily  commenced.  After  a 
fierce  struggle  of  half  an  hour  the  bridge  was  carried 
by  the  Spaniards.  Before,  however,  they  could  en- 
ter the  place,  they  had  another  battle  to  tight  with  a 
Mexican  re-en forcetnent  of  ten  thousand  men  which 
had  just  arrived.  Through  this  dense  mass  they 
made  their  way,  though  they  did  not  disperse  it.,  and 


302  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

it  continued  to  hang  upon  their  flanks  and  rear.  In 
the  town  the  conflict  again  raged  with  increased 
fury.  Every  street  was  crowded  with  Indians,  and 
was  obstinately  disputed  by  them.  Here  ihe  career 
of'Cortez  was  nigh  being  brought  to  a  sudden  close. 
His  tired  horse  sank  under  him  in  the  midst  of  the 
Mexicans,  and  he  was  instantly  wounded  and  drag, 
ged  down  by  them.  They  were  hurrying  him  otf, 
when  Christoval  de  Olea  came  up  to  his  rescue 
with  a  body  of  Tlascalans.  De  Olea,  at  the  ex- 
pense  of  three  severe  wounds,  succeeded  in  extrica- 
ting and  remounting  his  general.  Yet  even  now 
Cortez  and  his  preserver  would  have  been  lost,  so 
vigorously  were  they  pressed  upon  by  their  antag- 
onists, had  not  a  Spanish  division  from  another 
quarter  been  attracted  thither  by  the  clamour,  and 
arrived  just  in  time  to  save  them.  This  sharp  en. 
counter  was  closed  by  the  enemy  retiring  to  that 
portion  of  the  city  which  stood  upon  the  lake. 

But  the  victors,  if  so  they  may  be  called,  soon 
found  that  the  contest  was  only  suspended.  Previ- 
ous to  his  entering  the  town,  Cortez  had  left  two 
divisions  of  his  cavalry  to  secure  his  flanks  from 
the  Mexicans,  through  whom  he  had  forced  a  pas- 
sage. While  his  men  were  in  "an  enclosed  court, 
dressing  their  wounds  with  burned  oil,  and  tearing 
rags  to  bind  them."  the  cavalry  came  back,  every 
one  of  them  wounded,  and  declared  that  they  could 
do  nothing  against  the  multitudes  that  were  opposed 
to  them.  At  the  moment  when  they  were  giving 
this  disheartening  account,  there  was  showered  into 
the  court  such  a  volley  of  Mexican  arrows,  that  very 
few  of  those  who  were  in  the  enclosure  escaped  un- 
hurt.  The  Spaniards  sallied  forth,  bleeding  as  they 


CORTEZ.  303 

were,  and  repelled  the  assailants,  some  loss  being 
sustained  on  both  sides.  The  enemy  now  desisted 
for  a  while  from  their  attacks,  and  Cortez  availed 
himself  of  this  breathing-time  to  post  his  men  more 
under  cover,  and  to  ascend  to  the  summit  of  the  tern- 
pie  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoitring.  From  that 
elevated  spot  he  had  a  view  of  Mexico  and  the  whole 
expanse  of  the  lake  ;  but  he  saw  nothing  that  could 
gratify  him.  Above  two  thousand  canoes,  crowded 
with  soldiers,  were  swarming  out  of  the  Mexican 
capital.  From  some  prisoners  he  also  learned  that 
ten  thousand  men  were  marching  on  the  land  side 
for  a  nocturnal  attack,  and  that  ten  thousand  more 
were  ?.n  readiness  to  support  them.  The  night  at- 
tack, however,  dwindled  down  into  two  or  three 
trifling  alarms  being  given  to  the  Spanish  outposts. 
The  Mexican  troops  were  unaccustomed  to  act  in 
the  dark,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the  various 
divisions  got  into  confusion,  and  the  plan  they  had 
formed  was  frustrated. 

While  the  number  of  his  enemies  was  thus  in- 
creasing, Cortez  discovered  that  his  own  resources 
were  failing  in  a  most  essential  article.  His  stock 
of  powder  was  exhausted,  and  the  services  of  his 
musketeers  were  of  course  no  longer  available. 
To  remedy  this  as  much  as  possible,  he  directed  a 
store  of  arrows  to  be  prepared,  and  the  whole  of  the 
night  was  spent  in  heading  and  feathering  them. 
With  the  dawn  the  enemy  returned  to  the  combat. 
They  were,  indeed,  repulsed  ;  but  this  afforded  little 
consolation  to  Cortez,  for  he  learned  from  some  of 
the  prisoners  that  it  was  the  plan  of  the  Mexicans 
to  wear  out  his  troops  by  constantly  renewed  at. 
tacks  ;  and  such  a  plan,  perseveringly  followed  up, 


304  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES 

could  ouly  terminate  in  his  destruction.  He  there, 
fore  began  to  think  of  retreating.  An  incident  now 
occurred  which  tended  to  hasten  such  a  movement. 
Some  of  his  men  penetrated  into  the  lake  portion  of 
the  city  for  the  purpose  of  plundering.  While  they 
were  thus  occupied  they  were  set  upon  by  a  body 
of  Mexicans,  who  landed  from  canoes,  wounded 
many  of  them,  and  seized  four,  whom  they  carried 
off  to  the  capital.  "  From  these  men,"  says  Bernal 
Diaz,  "  Guatimotzin,  the  king  of  Mexico,  was  in- 
formed of  the  smallness  of  our  numbers,  and  otu 
great  loss  in  killed  and  wounded.  After  having 
questioned  them  as  much  as  he  thought  proper,  he 
commanded  their  hands  and  feet  to  be  cut  off,  and 
in  this  lamentable  condition  sent  them  through 
many  districts  of  the  neighbourhood,  as  a  sample  ol 
what  he  expected  to  do  by  us  all ;  and  after  having 
thus  exhibited  them  through  the  country,  they  were 
put  to  death." 

After  a  halt  of  four  days  at  Suchimileco,  during 
which  he  was  never  allowed  to  rest  by  his  active  ad. 
versaries,  Cortez  began  his  march  towards  Tezcuco. 
Convinced  of  the  manifold  difficulties  they  would 
have  to  encounter,  he  harangued  his  troops  in  the 
market-place,  and  strongly  urged  on  them  the  neces. 
sity  of  freeing  themselves  from  the  dangerous  en- 
cumbrance of  baggage.  It  was,  he  told  them,  a 
matter  of  imperious  necessity  that  they  should  leave 
it  all  behind.  But  they  had  perilled  their  bodies 
and  souls  to  obtain  the  booty,  and  they  stubbornly 
replied  that  they  were  able  to  defend  what  they 
had  won,  and  that  nothing  should  induce  them  to 
forego  it.  The  baggage  was  therefore  placed  in 
the  centre,  the  cavalry  formed  the  van  and  rear 


CORTEZ.  305 

guards,  and  the  crossbowmen  were  stationed  on  the 
flanks. 

From  the  route  which  Cortez  adopted,  it  is  man- 
ifest that  the  enemy  had  by  this  time  so  strongly 
occupied  the  country  behind  him  as  to  make  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  move  in  that  direction  ;  for,  in- 
stead of  retiring  by  the  direct  road  of  Chalco,  he 
determined  to  make  the  toilsome  circuit  of  the  lar- 
gest portion  of  the  Lake  of  Mexico.*  Though  they 
were  incessantly  harassed  by  the  enemy,  the  Span- 
iards reached  Cuyoacan  without  having  sustained 
any  material  loss.  It  would  seem  that  the  Mexi- 
cans had  expected  them  to  withdraw  by  the  Chalco 
road,  and  in  that  expectation  had  weakened  their 
forces  in  this  quarter.  At  Cuyoacan,  which  they 
found  deserted,  they  halted  for  two  days,  to  prepare 
arrows  and  rest  their  wounded.  They  then  resu- 
med their  march,  and  had  not  proceeded  far  before 
a  misadventure  befell  them.  Cortez,  with  a  small 
party  of  horse  and  four  attendants,  having  dropped 
behind  to  lay  an  ambuscade  for  the  Mexicans,  was 
unlucky  enough  to  be  caught  in  one  himself.  Fall- 
ing in  with  a  detachment  of  the  natives,  they  fled, 
and  he  followed  them  so  rashly  that,  ere  he  was 
aware,  a  large  body  of  warriors  started  out  upon 

*  It  has  been  supposed  that  Cortez  returned  the  same  way 
that  he  advanced.  This,  however,  is  a  mistake.  Even  were 
there  no  direct  evidence  on  the  point,  it  is  obvious  that,  under 
his  circumstances,  he  would  not  have  lengthened  his  march  one 
half,  and  directed  it  through  the  heart  of  an  enemy's  territory, 
had  the  much  shorter  road  through  the  friendly  province  of 
Chalco  been  practicable.  But,  though  he  does  not  state  the 
cause  of  his  circuitous  march,  Bernal  Diaz  is  explicit  as  to  the 
fact  of  such  march  having  been  made.  From  Suchimileco, 
through  Cuyoacan,  Tacuba,  Ezcapuzalco,  Tenayuco,  Quatillan, 
and  Aculman  to  Tezcuco,  is  the  route  by  which  he  states  Cor 
tez  to  have  retreated. 
24—20 


306  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

him.  The  horses  were  all  wounded  at  the  first 
onset,  two  of  the  attendants  of  Cortez  were  car- 
ried off  to  be  sacrificed,  and  the  rest  of  the  party 
narrowly  escaped  a  similar  fate.  Missing  their 
commander,  several  of  his  officers  set  out  from 
Tacuba  in  search  of  him,  and  in  a  short  time  he 
came  up  to  them,  "  very  sad,  and  weeping." 

The  retrograde  march  of  the  Spaniards  was 
rendered  more  painful  by  the  coming  on  of  a  del- 
uge of  rain.  On  their  way  to  Tacuba,  and  for 
some  time  after  their  arrival  there,  they  had  to  en- 
dure  all  its  violence.  As  soon  as  the  troops  were 
distributed  in  their  quarters,  Cortez  and  some  of  his 
officers  ascended  to  the  top  of  the  temple,  to  take  a 
survey  of  the  surrounding  country.  Here  a  curi- 
ous proof  occurred  of  the  facility  with  which  men, 
especially  when  they  are  stimulated  by  fanaticism 
and  a  love  of  gain,  can  cheat  their  own  conscien- 
ces. "  All  of  us,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  agreed  in 
giving  glory  to  God  for  making  us  the  instruments 
of  such  services."  The  reverend  father  also  con- 
soled Cortez,  who  was  very  sad  on  account  of  his 
late  loss !  "  When  we  contemplated  the  scenes  of 
our  disasters  in  Mexico,  which  we  could  well  trace 
from  where  we  stood,  it  made  Cortez  much  more 
sad  than  before.  It  was  on  this  that  the  romance 
was  written  which  begins, 

4  In  Tacuba  was  Cortez,  with  many  a  gallant  chief; 
He  thought  upon  his  losses,  and  bow'd  his  head  with  grief.' " 

By  some  of  the  more  adventurous  of  the  band, 
it  was  now  proposed  to  push  forward  a  reconnoi- 
tring party  along  the  causeway  which  led  to  Mex- 
ico. This  movement,  which  could  at  best  have 
been  productive  but  of  a  fruitless  waste  of  life,  and 


CORTEZ.  307 

which  might  have  led  to  fatal  consequences,  was 
negatived  by  the  most  prudent  of  the  leaders.  The 
retreat  was  therefore  resumed  through  the  aban- 
doned cities  of  Ezcapuzalco  and  Tenayuco  to 
Quatitlan,  where  the  army  halted  for  the  night,  the 
soldiers  being  so  exhausted  by  the  continual  rain 
and  the  weight  of  their  arms  that  they  could  pro- 
ceed no  farther.  Such  was  their  lassitude  and  the 
severity  of  the  weather,  that,  though  the  enemy  hov- 
ered round  and  annoyed  them,  the  common  milita- 
ry precaution  of  visiting  the  outposts  was  entirely 
neglected.  Luckily  for  the  Spaniards,  no  serious 
attack  was  made  upon  them  ;  and,  after  struggling 
for  two  days  more  through  roads  deep  in  mud,  they 
reached  Aculman,  in  the  district  of  Tezcuco. 
There  their  hearts  were  cheered  by  the  sight  of  a 
re-enforcement  which  had  newly  arrived  from  Cas- 
tile. They  closed  their  retreat  on  the  following 
day  at  Tezcuco,  "  fatigued,  worn  out,  and  diminish' 
ed  in  numbers." 

Cortez  had  been  only  two  days  at  Tezcuco  when 
he  received  the  startling  intelligence  that  his  life 
was  in  more  peril  from  some  of  his  followers  than 
it  had  lately  been  from  the  Mexicans.  He  learned 
that  a  formidable  conspiracy  was  on  foot  against 
him.  The  contriver  of  it  was  Antonia  de  Villefa- 
na,  one  of  the  soldiers  of  Narvaez,  and  he  had 
drawn  into  it  numbers  of  his  comrades,  and  even 
many  of  the  original  companions  of  Cortez.  They 
were  weary  of  their  toils,  and  hopeless  of  success 
in  the  coming  contest;  and,  as  all  cowards  are 
cruel,  they  basely  determined  to  end  their  perils 
and  privations  by  the  murder  of  their  commander, 
and  of  all  those  officers  who  remained  faithful  to 
A  A 


308  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

him.  "  The  assassination,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  \\  h'o 
was  himself  to  have  been  among  the  victims,  "  was 
to  have  been  accomplished  in  the  following  manner. 
A  vessel  having  lately  arrived  from  Castile,  a  letter 
was  to  be  brought  to  the  general  as  from  his  father, 
and  as  if  it  had  come  by  that  opportunity,  which 
letter  was  to  be  delivered  as  he  sat  at  table  with 
his  officers  and  soldiers ;  and  when  he  had  opened 
and  was  in  the  act  of  reading  it,  the  conspirators 
were  to  fall  on  and  despatch  him  with  their  pon- 
iards, together  with  all  of  us  who  were  in  his  com- 
pany." 

This  nefarious  plot  was  timely  disclosed  to  Cor- 
tez  by  one  of  his  trusty  soldiers,  whom  the  con- 
spirators  had  attempted  to  seduce.  In  this  emer- 
gency Cortez  acted  with  admirable  promptitude, 
presence  of  mind,  and  good  policy.  Villafana  was 
instantly  seized,  while  he  was  in  council  with  some 
of  his  companions  in  guilt,  was  brought  to  trial, 
and  hanged  out  of  the  window  of  his  own  apart- 
ment. From  his  confession,  and  still  more  fully 
from  a  paper  found  on  him,  Cortez  learned  the 
names  of  all  who  had  signed  the  treasonable  asso- 
ciation, and  among  them  he  saw,  with  equal  grief 
and  surprise,  those  of  many  persons  in  whom  he 
had  been  accustomed  to  place  an  implicit  confi- 
dence. His  situation  at  this  moment  was  one  of 
extreme  difficulty.  It  might  be  dangerous,  and,  at 
all  events,  must  cripple  his  future  operations,  if  he 
should  attempt  to  bring  the  numerous  delinquents 
to  justice ;  and  there  was  scarcely  less  danger  in 
their  knowing  that  he  was  aware  of  their  guilt,  as 
they  would  then  live  in  constant  dread  of  his  ven- 
geance, and  might  be  tempted  to  form  new  plots  to 


CORTEZ.  309 

destroy  the  object  of  their  fears.  Cortez,  there- 
fore, wisely  spread  a  report  that  Villafana  had 
swallowed  the  paper  which  contained  the  names  of 
his  confederates ;  and,  that  this  report  might  ob. 
tain  credit,  he  continued  to  treat  the  frustrated 
traitors  with  apparently  undiminished  confidence 
and  kindness.  He  took  care,  however,  to  keep  a 
watchful  eye  upon  them,  and  also  availed  himself 
of  this  opportunity  to  form  a  guard  for  his  person, 
consisting  of  soldiers  on  whose  fidelity  he  could 
rely. 

Equal  praise,  however,  cannot  be  given  to  Cor- 
tez for  his  conduct  in  another  case  which  soon  af- 
terward  occurred.     It  has   been   seen*  that   the 
younger    Xicotenga,  who    was    now    become    the 
Tlascalan    commander-in-chief,    was   gifted    with 
more  foresight  than  his  compatriots,  and  that  he 
consequently  deprecated  the  alliance  with  the  Span- 
/ards,  into  which  they  had  been  led  by  their  blind 
hatred  of  their  Mexican  neighbours.     Quitting  the 
Tlascalan  troops  while  they  were  on  their  march 
to  join  Cortez,  he  now  returned  to  Tlascala.     It 
was  charged  against  him  that  he  did  so  for  the 
purpose  of  seizing  the  property  and  territory  of 
Chichimacatecle,  another  chief  who  was  friendly 
to  Cortez.     But  his  real  offence  seems  to  have 
been  his  repugnance  to  seeing  his  countrymen  made 
the  tools  of  a  foreign  invader.     Cortez  immediate, 
ly  despatched  several  chiefs  to  summon  him  back. 
"  His  answer  was,"  says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  that  if  Max- 
icatzin  and  his  old  father  had  believed  him,  they 
would  not  be  now  ridden  by  Cortez  in  the  manner 
they  were,  and  he  absolutely  refused  to  return. 
*  Page  290. 


310  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

This  answer  being  sent  back  to  Cortez,  he  com- 
manded  an  alguazil,  attended  by  four  of  the  cavalry 
and  five  of  the  chiefs  of  Tezcuco,  to  set  out  im- 
mediately, giving  them  orders,  wherever  they  found 
Xicotenga,  to  seize  and  hang  him  without  ceremo- 
ny. Alvarado  interceded  strongly  for  him,  but  ul- 
timately to  no  purpose  ;  for,  although  Cortez  appear- 
ed to  listen  to  him,  the  party  which  arrested  Xico- 
tenga in  a  town  subject  to  Tezcuco,  there  hung 
him,  under  private  orders  of  Cortez  not  to  let  him 
go  from  them  alive,  and,  as  some  say,  with  the  ap. 
probation  of  his  father."  This  was  a  foul  murder, 
and  the  friends  of  Xicotenga  would  have  been  fully 
justified  in  consigning  Cortez  to  the  gibbet  had  he 
chanced  to  fall  into  their  hands. 

The  brigantines  were  at  length  completed,  and 
the  canal  along  which  they  were  to  be  floated  into 
the  lake  was  enlarged  to  a  sufficient  width  and 
depth.  Crews  were  selected  for  them  from  among 
such  of  his  followers  as  had  been  accustomed  to 
the  sea,  and  a  proportion  also  of  crossbowmen  and 
musketeers  was  embarked  in  each  vessel.  It  was 
not  without  much  murmuring,  however,  that  his 
men  submitted  to  what  they  considered  as  a  deg- 
radation,  the  handling  of  an  oar.  But  Cortez 
would  admit  of  no  excuse  even  though  some  of 
them  pleaded  their  gentilly  as  an  unanswerable 
objection.  He  next  sent  orders  to  the  surrounding 
districts  to  supply  him  with  eight  thousand  copper 
arrow-heads,  and  as  many  shafts  of  a  particular 
kind  of  wood.  The  men  were  likewise  directed 
to  point  their  lances,  provide  themselves  with  extra 
cords  to  their  bows,  ascertain  the  range  of  their 
missiles,  and  exercise  their  horses  daily.  Powder 


CORTEZ.  311 

he  had  recently  received  from  Spain  Strict  reg- 
ulations were  at  the  same  time  promulgated  for  the 
maintenance  of  discipline.  Lastly,  messengers 
were  despatched  to  summon  all  his  allies  to  meet 
him  on  a  certain  day.  Seventy  thousand  Indians 
are  said  to  have  been  brought  into  the  field  by  this 
summons.  On  the  day  after  the  festival  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  he  reviewed  his  European  troops ; 
they  consisted  of  eighty-four  cavalry,  six  hundred 
and  fifty  infantry  armed  with  sword  and  buckler  or 
lances,  and  a  hundred  and  ninety-four  musketeers 
and  bowmen,  with  three  iron  cannon  and  fifteen 
small  brass  fieldpieces. 

In  the  latter  end  of  May  Cortez  put  his  forces 
in  motion  towards  the  Mexican  capital.  That  city 
being  approachable  on  the  land  side  only  by  its 
causeways,  the  Spanish  general  divided  his  army 
into  three  parts,  which  were  to  push  forward  their 
attacks  simultaneously  along  three  of  these  cause- 
ways, and  to  be  supported  by  the  flotilla  of  brigan- 
tines,  which  was  also  divided  into  three  squadrons. 
Each  of  the  divisions  consisted  of  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  infantry,  thirty  cavalry,  eighteen  musket- 
eers and  crossbowmen,  and  eight  thousand  native 
auxiliaries.  Alvarado,  with  the  first,  was  to  ad- 
vance from  Tacuba;  De  Oli,  with  the  second,  from 
Cuyoacan ;  and  Sandoval,  with  the  third,  from  Iz- 
tapalapa.  The  flotilla  was  commanded  by  Cortez 
in  person. 

The  divisions  of  Alvarado  and  De  Oli,  which 
were  stationed  nearest  to  each  other,  were  the  first 
to  commence  operations.  Uniting  together,  they 
succeeded  in  destroying  the  pipes  by  which  fresh 
water  was  conveyed  into  the  city  from  the  aque- 


312  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

duct  of  Chepultapeque.  Elated  with  this  success, 
they  resolved  to  gain  an  immediate  footing  on  the 
causeway  of  Tacuba.  But  they  had  overrated 
their  strength.  The  enemy  had  on  their  side  a 
superior  force  and  equal  courage.  Diaz  declares 
that  the  immense  number  of  their  boats,  and  of 
their  troops  upon  the  land,  was  a  subject  of  aston- 
ishment. The  first  flight  of  Mexican  arrows  killed 
three  and  wounded  thirty  men.  The  Spaniards, 
nevertheless,  pressed  on,  while  the  natives  artfully 
fell  back  till  they  had  drawn  them  to  some  distance 
on  the  causeway,  which  was  only  twenty  feet  wide. 
There  the  assailants  were  opposed  in  front  by  ene- 
mies behind  parapets,  and  armed  with  long  lances ; 
and  on  their  flanks  by  swarms  of  warriors  in  ca- 
noes. The  canoes  themselves  were  so  well  barri- 
caded  that  no  impression  could  be  made  upon  them 
by  the  crossbow  or  the  musket.  After  a  hopeless 
struggle  of  an  hour's  duration,  the  Spanish  troops 
were  compelled  to  retire,  with  heavy  loss,  closely 
pursued  by  the  Mexicans.  For  the  four  or  five 
succeeding  days  they  were  harassed  in  their  quar- 
ters by  desultory  attacks,  and,  had  their  weakness 
been  known  to  the  Mexicans,  their  ruin  might  per- 
haps have  ensued ;  for  De  OH,  who  was  at  vari- 
ance with  Alvarado,  had  refused  to  remain  with 
him,  and  the  flotilla  was  not  yet  at  hand  to  support 
them. 

Sandoval,  at  the  outset,  was  scarcely  more  for. 
tunate.  His  march  to  Iztapalapa  was  for  the 
most  part  through  a  friendly  territory,  but  when 
he  reached  that  city  he  found  antagonists  prepared 
to  receive  him.  Iztapalapa  was  one  of  the  places 
which  were  built  partly  on  the  shore  of  the  lake 


CORTEZ.  313 

and  partly  in  the  water.  Sandoval  immediately 
attacked  the  natives,  and  burned  several  of  the 
houses  on  the  mainland.  Fresh  bodies  of  Mexi- 
cans, however,  came  up  both  by  land  and  water, 
and  he  was  engaged  in  a  doubtful  struggle  to  main, 
tain  his  ground,  when  he  perceived  a  smoke  rise 
from  a  hill  behind  the  town,  which  was  answered 
from  other  points  around  the  lake.  The  enemy 
immediately  began  to  retreat,  being  wanted  in  an- 
other  quarter  :  the  smoke  was  for  a  signal  that  the 
Spanish  brigantines  had  entered  the  lake.  Sando- 
val was  consequently  left  in  possession  of  that  part 
of  the  town  which  he  had  gained.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  days  he  made  an  attempt  to  advance  upon 
the  causeway,  and  master  that  part  of  the  town 
which  was  situated  in  the  water.  But  the  Mexi- 
cans sent  a  large  body  of  troops  to  cut  the  cause- 
way behind  him,  and  he  would  have  been  in  great 
jeopardy  had  not  the  Spanish  general  ordered  De 
Oli  to  succour  him,  and  sailed  himself  with  the 
brigantines  for  the  same  purpose.  Finding  that  an 
attack  upon  the  capital  from  this  side  would  be  ex- 
posed to  many  difficulties,  Cortez  now  removed 
Sandoval  from  Iztapalapa,  and  stationed  him  at 
Tepeaco,  where  the  northern  causeway  joins  the 
mainland. 

The  bringing  of  the  flotilla  into  action  was  soon 
productive  of  considerable  advantage  to  the  be- 
siegers. It  linked  together  the  operations  of  the 
Spanish  divisions,  covered  their  flanks,  and  render- 
ed difficult  and  more  scanty,  though  it  could  not 
wholly  prevent,  the  supply  of  men  and  provisions 
to  the  Mexican  capital.  The  Mexicans  were  not 
blind  to  this  danger,  and  they  left  no  means  untried 


314  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

to  avert  it :  nor  was  there  any  lack  of  ingenuity 
in  some  of  their  devices.  At  first  they  hoped  to 
overcome  the  enemy  by  close  fighting.  Accord, 
ingly,  as  soon  as  the  brigantines  made  their  ap- 
pearance upon  the  lake,  the  Mexicans  hastened 
to  meet  them.  The  number  of  their  canoes,  filled 
with  warriors,  is  said  to  have  exceeded  four  thou- 
sand. Perceiving  that  a  breeze  was  about  to 
spring  up,  Cortez  drew  his  vessels  into  au  open 
part  of  the  lake  ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  wind  had  be- 
come sufficiently  strong,  he  ordered  every  sail  to  be 
spread,  and  the  oars  to  be  vigorously  plied.  The 
weight  and  velocity  of  the  brigantines  were  irre- 
sistible. The  frail  canoes  were  unable  to  with- 
stand the  shock,  and  their  numbers  only  added  to 
their  confusion  and  loss.  They  were  broken 
through  and  scattered  in  all  directions  ;  very  many 
were  sunk  and  all  the  crews  drowned,  while  the 
remainder  were  glad  to  find  shelter  in  the  shallow 
water  and  creeks,  whither  the  Spaniards  were  un- 
able to  follow  them.  Yet,  undismayed  by  this  dis- 
aster, they  soon  after  ventured  to  iall  upon  Cortez 
at  Cuyoacan.  They  were  again  routed  ;  but  du- 
ring the  action  the  powder  magazine  in  the  vessel 
of  Cortez  was  blown  up,  ar.d  many  of  his  men 
were  wounded.  Force  failing  them,  they  had  now 
recourse  to  stratagem.  Two  of  the  brigantines 
being  ordered  to  cruise  during  the  night,  for  the 
purpose  of  cutting  off  supplies  from  the  city,  the 
enemy  formed  a  plan  for  making  themselves  mas- 
ters  of  them.  Among  the  tall  reeds  of  the  lake 
they  concealed  thirty  of  their  largest  piraguas,  and 
drove  large  beams  of  timber  under  water  in  vari. 
oiis  places.  Two  or  thre^  canoes,  apparently  la 


COHTEZ.  315 

den  with  provisions,  were  then  sent  out  as  a  bait. 
The  brigantines  fell  into  the  snare :  they  eagerly 
pursued  the  canoes,  and  were  led  by  them  among 
the  labyrinth  of  hidden  piles.  Enclosed  in  this 
trap,  it  was  impossible  to  manoeuvre  or  escape. 
Out  rushed  the  thirty  piraguas,  and  the  first  volley 
from  them  wounded  every  soul  on  board  of  the  de- 
voted vessels.  The  Spaniards  fought  desperately, 
but  were  compelled  to  surrender.  Encouraged  by 
this  success,  the  Mexicans  soon  after  planned  an 
ambuscade  on  a  larger  scale.  It  might,  perhaps, 
have  answered  its  purpose,  had  not  the  scheme 
been  betrayed  by  a  prisoner,  when  Cortez,  in 
turn,  arranged  a  counter-ambuscade.  A  detected 
stratagem  generally  recoils  on  its  contriver,  and 
it  did  so  in  this  instance.  The  Mexicans  were  de- 
feated with  great  loss  in  killed  and  prisoners,  many 
of  their  canoes  were  run  down,  and  many  were 
taken.  This  action  not  only  put  a  stop  to  their 
attempts  to  recover  the  supremacy  by  water,  but 
also  rendered  them  less  daring  in  the  conveyance 
of  supplies  to  the  city,  and  induced  many  of  the 
towns  on  the  lake  to  make  their  submission  to 
Cortez. 

We  must  now  revert  to  the  operations  of  the 
land  forces.  The  task  which  these  troops  had  to 
perform  was  more  wearisome,  protracted,  and  per- 
ilous than  that  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  their  com- 
rades in  the  brigantines.  Day  after  day,  week  after 
week,  the  same  monotonous  and  apparently  fruit- 
less toil  was  to  be  undergone.  Their  labour  seem- 
ed like  that  wasted  on  the  fabled  web  of  Penelope. 
Bernal  Diaz  presents  a  striking  picture  of  it. 
"  We  drove  them  from  several  bridges  and  barri- 


316  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

3ades,"  says  he ;  "  but,  after  fighting  during  the 
whole  day,  we  were  obliged  at  night  to  retreat  to 
our  quarters,  almost  every  man  of  us  wounded  by 
the  showers  of  arrows  and  stones,  which  exceeded 
imagination  ;  for  we  were  attacked  constantly  by 
fresh  troops,  bearing  different  devices,  by  land, 
while  from  the  terraces  of  the  houses  the  enemy 
commanded  our  ships.  As  we  could  not  leave  a 
party  to  secure  what  we  got  in  the  day,  at  night 
the  enemy  repossessed  themselves  of  the  bridges, 
and  put  better  defences  on  them.  They  deepened 
the  water  in  some  places,  and  in  the  shallow  part 
they  dug  pits,  and  placed  canoes  in  ambuscade, 
which  they  secured  from  the  attack  of  our  vessels 
by  palisades  under  the  water.  This  was  the  man- 
ner  in  which  they  opposed  us  every  day.  The 
cavalry,  as  I  before  observed,  could  do  nothing ; 
the  enemy  had  built  parapets  across  the  causeways, 
which  they  defended  with  long  lances ;  and  even 
had  an  attack  been  practicable,  the  soldiers  would 
not  risk  their  horses,  which  at  this  time  cost  eight 
hundred  crowns,  and  some  more  than  a  thousand, 
nor,  indeed,  were  they  to  be  had  at  any  price." 
He  concludes  this  description  with  an  amusing 
trait  of  superstition  and  credulity.  "  When  we 
arrived  at  night,  we  were  employed  in  curing  our 
wounds ;  and  a  soldier  named  Juan  Catalan  also 
healed  them  by  charms  and  prayers,  which,  with 
the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus,  recovered  us  very 
fast.  But  wounded  or  not,  we  were  obliged  to  go 
against  the  enemy  every  day,  as  otherwise  our 
companies  would  not  have  been  twenty  men  strong. 
When  our  allies  saw  that  the  before-mentioned  sol. 
dier  cured  us  by  charms  and  prayers,  all  theii 


CORTEZ.  317 

wounded  came  to  him,  so  that  he  had  more  busi- 
ness  on  his  hands  than  he  knew  what  to  do  with." 

Tired  of  gaining  ground  in  the  day  and  losing  it 
at  night,  the  besiegers  adopted  a  new  plan.  There 
was  on  the  Tacuba  causeway  a  small  open  space, 
containing  some  buildings  for  religious  worship. 
There  the  division  of  Alvarado  at  last  succeeded 
in  establishing  itself,  leaving  the  cavalry  and  allies 
to  keep  open  the  communication  with  Tacuba, 
whence  they  were  supplied  with  bread.  In  future 
it  was  intended  to  fill  up  the  causeways,  and  to  de- 
stroy the  insulated  houses  in  the  water  as  fast  as 
they  were  gained;  the  materials  from  the  latter 
serving  to  throw  into  the  canals,  and  to  widen  the 
ground  upon  which  the  troops  were  acting.  In  the 
work  of  demolition  and  filling  up  the  allies  were 
employed,  and  their  services  were  in  this  way 
more  effectual  than  any  they  could  render  with 
their  weapons. 

The  Mexicans,  on  their  part,  were  so  far  from 
being  idle,  that  their  attacks  compelled  the  besie- 
gers to  keep  a  large  portion  of  their  men  under 
arms  the  whole  night,  and  the  rest  ready  for  action 
at  a  moment's  notice.  At  times,  the  entire  Span- 
ish division  on  the  Tacuba  causeway  was  obliged 
to  remain  under  arms  throughout  the  hours  of  dark- 
ness. It  was  against  this  point  that  the  Mexicans 
bent  their  principal  efforts.  Their  intention  was 
to  assail  it  on  all  sides,  and  make  themselves  mas- 
ters  of  Tacuba,  which  contained  the  baggage  and 
bakery  of  the  hostile  army.  For  several  nights 
in  succession  they  made  onsets  upon  Alvarado's 
troops,  from  midnight  to  daybreak.  All  this,  how- 
ever,  was  only  meant  to  weaken  and  weary  their 


318  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES 

antagonists  preparatory  to  a  more  desperate  strug- 
gle. To  give  effect  to  that  struggle,  art  was 
brought  in  aid  of  strength.  "The  Mexicans," 
says  the  honest  chronicler,  "  opposed  our  progress 
by  breaking  a  bridge  in  the  rear  of  their  parapets 
and  barricades,  where  the  water  was  very  deep, 
leaving  one  obvious  pass  as  a  decoy,  and  in  other 
parts  pitfalls  under  the  water ;  they  also  made  par- 
apets  on  both  sides  of  the  breach,  they  placed  pal- 
isades in  the  deep  water  where  our  vessels  could 
approach,  and  they  had  canoes  manned  ready  to 
sally  out  upon  the  signal  given.  When  they  had 
made  these  preparations,  they  advanced  against  us 
in  three  bodies,  one  by  the  side  of  Tacuba,  anoth- 
er by  the  ruins  of  the  houses  which  had  been  de- 
stroyed, and  the  third  by  the  causeway  where  they 
had  contrived  their  plan  to  entrap  us.  Alvarado 
had  brought  part  of  his  cavalry  to  our  post  since 
the  houses  were  destroyed.  We  repulsed  the  ene- 
my on  all  sides ;  and  one  party  of  us,  having  for- 
ced them  from  the  works  I  have  mentioned,  cross- 
ed the  water,  up  to  our  necks,  at  the  pass  they  had 
left  open,  and  followed  them  until  we  came  to  a 
place  where  were  large  temples  and  towers  of  idols. 
Here  we  were  assailed  by  fresh  troops  from  the 
houses  and  roofs,  and  those  whom  we  were  pursu- 
ing faced  about  and  came  against  us,  so  that  we 
were  obliged  to  retreat,  which  we  did  with  regular- 
ity; but  when  we  came  to  the  water,  we  found 
that  the  enemy  in  their  canoes  had  got  possession 
of  the  pass  where  we  had  crossed.  We  were 
therefore  obliged  to  look  for  other  places ;  but,  as 
they  came  pressing  on  us,  we  were  at  length  com- 
pelled to  throw  ourselves  into  the  lake  and  get 


CORTEZ.  319 

over  as  we  could.  Those  who  were  not  able  to 
awim  fell  into  the  pits ;  the  enemy  closed  in  upon 
them,  wounded  most,  and  took  five  of  them  alive. 
The  vessels  which  came  to  our  relief  could  not  ap- 
proach, being  embarrassed  among  the  palisades, 
and  here  they  lost  two  soldiers.  It  was  a  wonder 
we  were  not  all  destroyed  in  the  pitfalls ;  a  number 
of  the  enemy  laid  hands  on  me,  but  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  gave  me  force  to  disengage  my  arm,  and  by 
dint  of  a  good  sword  I  got  free  from  them,  though 
wounded,  and  arrived  on  the  dry  ground,  where  I 
fainted  away,  and  remained  senseless  for  a  time. 
This  was  owing  to  my  great  exertions  and  loss  of 
blood.  After  this  success  the  enemy  kept  us  con- 
stantly  employed  day  and  night,  by  attacks  upon 
our  posts." 

Cortez  now  endeavoured  to  carry  an  outpost 
which  was  of  so  much  importance  to  the  city  that 
it  had  been  strongly  fortified.  It  was  vigorously 
defended  both  by  land  and  water ;  but  Cortez,  who 
led  the  attack  in  person,  at  length  obtained  posses- 
sion of  it.  He  was,  however,  ultimately  obliged  to 
retire,  with  considerable  loss,  and  without  having 
been  able  to  fill  up  the  deep  canal  which  was  in 
front  of  the  work.  The  terraced  houses  in  the  vi- 
cinity commanded  the  position,  and  the  palisades 
prevented  the  brigantines  from  acting  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  troops.  For  a  few  days  after  this 
event,  Cortez  was  too  much  occupied  in  defending 
himself  to  think  of  offensive  warfare.  Guatimotzin 
had  resolved  to  try  whether  the  Spaniards  might  not 
be  worn  out  by  a  series  of  almost  unintermitted  at- 
tacks upon  them.  These  attacks  were  commen- 
ced simultaneously  by  land  and  water,  two  hours 


320  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

before  daylight  on  the  21st  of  June,  against  all  the 
Spanish  divisions :  they  were  continued  for  the  two 
following  nights,  and  ended  in  a  combined  assault 
by  the  whole  Mexican  force  upon  Alvarado's  divis- 
ton.  These  desperate  onsets,  especially  the  last, 
were  not  repelled  without  much  difficulty  and  no 
inconsiderable  loss. 

It  was  now  July,  and  the  Spaniards,  though  they 
had  been  six  weeks  before  the  Mexican  capital, 
had  made  but  little  progress.  Grown  impatient 
from  his  want  of  success,  Cortez  now  formed  the 
desperate  resolution  of  endeavouring  to  carry  the 
city  by  a  general  assault.  His  intention  was  to 
push  forward  along  the  three  causeways,  and  reach, 
if  possible,  the  great  square,  the  possession  of  which 
would,  he  thought,  enable  him  to  command  all  the 
streets  which  led  to  it.  In  the  council  of  war  which 
he  called  on  this  occasion,  the  scheme  was  strongly 
opposed  by  several  of  his  officers.  They  urged 
that  if  they  should  even  succeed  in  reaching  the 
great  square,  they  would  then  be  only  in  the  same 
situation  as  when  they  were  expelled  from  Mexico, 
with  the  additional  disadvantage  of  having  to  con- 
tend against  a  more  numerous  force  ;  and  that  this 
time  the  enemy  would  perhaps  effectually  preclude 
their  retreat  by  cutting  the  causeways  behind  them. 
It  was  therefore  more  prudent  to  adhere  to  the  slow 
but  sure  system  of  destroying  the  houses  and  filling 
up  the  canals  as  they  went  along,  thus  gradually 
gaining  a  firm  footing.  They  were,  however,  over- 
ruled  by  a  majority  of  the  council,  and  it  was  deter- 
mined that  the  plan  of  Cortez  should  be  carried  into 
execution  by  the  whole  of  the  Spanish  and  allied 
force. 


CORTEZ.  321 

This  ill-advised  adventure  had  the  result  which 
the  minority  anticipated.  At  first,  the  division  led 
by  Cortez  in  person  met  with  less  violent  opposi- 
tion than  was  experienced  by  the  other  two.  But 
this  apparent  slackness  of  the  enemy  was  only  a 
feint  tc  draw  on  their  adversaries.  The  Mexicans 
had  narrowed  the  causeway,  which  was  also  cover- 
ed with  water  in  some  places  and  deep  in  mud,  ana 
had  got  everything  in  readiness  to  fall  upon  the 
Spaniards  at  the  proper  moment.  Cortez  himself 
added  to  the  danger  by  neglecting  to  give  orders  for 
filling  up  the  ditches  he  had  passed.  No  sooner 
had  he  reached  a  certain  point,  than  multitudes  of 
canoes  sallied  forth  and  took  him  in  flank  and  rear, 
his  own  vessels  being  unable  to  succour  him  on  ac- 
count of  the  palisades.  A  retreat  was  in  conse- 
quence ordered,  which  was  conducted  with  tolerable 
regularity  till  the  Spaniards  arrived  at  a  narrow 
pass,  where  their  assailants  fell  upon  them  with  ten- 
fold fury.  "  The  retreat,"  says  Diaz,  "  was  turned 
into  a  race,  our  people  flying  before  the  enemy  with- 
out attempting  to  defend  themselves."  Cortez 
tried  to  rally  them,  but  in  vain.  He  was  now  in 
imminent  peril;  already  wounded  in  the  leg,  he  was 
seized  upon  by  six  Mexican  chiefs,  and  must  have 
fallen  a  victim  had  he  not  been  saved  by  the  valour 
of  Lerma  and  De  Oli.  The  latter  paid  with  his  life 
for  the  rescue  of  his  commander ;  he  was  slain,  after 
having  killed  four  of  the  chiefs  with  his  own  hand. 
The  liberated  general  was  dragged  out  of  the  water, 
mounted  on  horseback,  and  hurried  off  to  his  quar- 
ters. Seventy-two  Spaniards  fell  alive  into  the 
hands  of  the  Mexice.ns,  and  the  slaughter  made 
among  the  allies  was  mmense. 


322  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

No  better  fortune  attended  the  division  led  by 
Alvarado.  The  first  dike  which  it  attacked  was 
so  obstinately  defended  that  above  a  thousand  of 
the  allies  were  slain  or  hurt,  one  of  the  Span- 
iards  was  killed,  and  most  of  them  were  wounded. 
The  dike  was  nevertheless  carried.  But  here 
ended  the  success  of  this  column.  "  As  we  were 
advancing,"  says  Diaz,  "  we  were  met  by  fresh 
troops  in  great  parade,  bearing  plumes  of  feathers, 
and  devices  on  their  standards.  When  we  came 
near  them,  they  threw  down  before  us  five  bleeding 
heads,  crying  out  to  us  that  they  were  those  of 
Cortez  and  his  officers,  and  that  we  should  meet 
the  same  fate  as  our  companions ;  they  then  march- 
ed  up,  and  fighting  us  foot  to  foot,  compelled  us  to 
retreat.  We,  as  usual,  called  to  our  allies  to  make 
way  for  us,  but  in  the  present  case  there  was  no 
occasion  ;  the  sight  of  the  bloody  heads  had  done  it 
effectually,  nor  did  one  of  them  remain  on  the  cause- 
way to  impede  our  retreat.  Before  we  arrived 
at  our  quarters,  and  while  the  enemy  were  pursu- 
ing us,  we  heard  their  shrill  tymbals,  and  the  dis- 
mal sound  of  the  great  drum,  from  the  top  of  the 
principal  temple  of  the  god  of  war,  which  overlook- 
ed the  whole  city.  Its  mournful  noise  was  such 
as  may  be  imagined  the  music  of  the  infernal  gods, 
and  it  might  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  almost 
three  leagues.  They  were  then  sacrificing  the 
hearts  of  ten  of  our  companions  to  their  idols. 
Shortly  after  this  the  King  of  Mexico's  horn  was 
blown,  giving  notice  to  his  captains  that  they  were 
then  to  take  their  enemies  prisoners,  or  perish  in 
the  attempt.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  fury 
with  which  they  closed  upon  us  when  they  heard 


CORTEZ.  323 

this  signal.  Though  all  is  as  perfect  to  my  recol- 
lection as  if  passing  before  my  eyes,  it  is  utterly 
beyond  my  power  to  describe ;  all  I  can  say  is,  it 
was  God's  will  that  we  should  escape  from  their 
hands,  and  get  back  in  safety  to  our  post.  Praised 
be  He  for  his  mercies,  now  and  at  all  other  times !" 

The  column  headed  by  Sandoval  suffered  the 
least  of  the  three.  He  seems  to  have  been  allow, 
ed  to  advance  with  only  slender  opposition,  till  the 
fate  of  the  two  other  columns  was  decided.  The 
moment  that  was  ascertained,  the  Mexicans  turned 
upon  him  with  the  utmost  fury,  wounded  him  in 
three  places,  killed  two  of  his  men  at  the  first  dis- 
charge, and  wounded  all  the  test.  Six  Spanish 
heads  were  also  thrown  before  his  soldiers,  accom- 
panied by  loud  threats  that  they  should  soon  be 
treated  in  the  same  manner  as  their  companions 
had  been.  Sandoval,  however,  retained  all  his 
presence  of  mind,  and  succeeded  in  keeping  his 
men  to  their  ranks,  and  in  bringing  them  off  with 
but  inconsiderable  loss. 

The  post  of  Sandoval  on  the  mainland  was  left 
in  comparative  quiet,  but  not  so  those  which  were 
occupied  by  Alvarado  and  Cortez :  they  were  as- 
sailed with  the  utmost  fury  by  the  victors.  Into 
the  quarters  of  Cortez  they  threw  four  heads, 
which  they  said  were  those  of  Sandoval,  Alvarado, 
and  two  other  officers.  At  Tacuba  the  Spanish 
division  would  probably  have  been  overpowered 
but  for  the  fire  of  two  guns  which  raked  the  cause- 
way. Yet,  in  spite  of  the  deadly  discharges  from 
these  cannon,  the  natives  persisted  in  pressing  on. 
One  of  the  brigantines  had  fallen  into  their  power, 
but  it  was  subsequently  recovered.  Of  the  canoes 
BB 


324  PERILOUS   ADVENTURES. 

belonging  to  the  allies,  one  half  were  taken  01  de. 
stroyed.  Sandoval,  who  had  come  to  inquire  what 
was  the  real  situation  of  Cortez,  was  now  despatch, 
ed  by  him  to  Tacuba,  to  assist  in  repelling  the 
Mexicans.  A  short  pause  ensued  in  the  contest 
soon  after  his  arrival  at  that  position.  "Here," 
says  Bernal  Diaz,  "  we  were  for  a  time  at  rest, 
and  engaged  in  relating  the  events  which  had  hap- 
pened at  each  post,  when  on  a  sudden  our  ears 
were  struck  by  the  horrific  sound  of  the  great  drum, 
the  tymbals,  horns,  and  trumpets,  in  the  temple  of 
the  god  of  war.  We  all  directed  our  eyes  thither, 
and,  shocking  to  relate,  saw  our  unfortunate  coun- 
trymen driven  by  force,  cuffs,  and  bastinades  to 
the  place  where  they  were  to  be  sacrificed,  which 
bloody  ceremony  was  accompanied  by  the  mourn- 
ful  sound  of  all  the  instruments  of  the  temple.  We 
perceived  that  when  they  had  brought  the  unfortu. 
nate  victims  to  the  flat  summit  of  the  body  of  the 
temple,  where  the  sacrifices  were  offered,  they  put 
plumes  upon  their  heads,  and  with  a  kind  of  fan 
in  the  hand  of  each,  made  them  dance  before  theii 
accursed  idols.  When  they  had  done  this,  they 
laid  them  on  their  backs,  upon  the  stone  used  foi 
the  purpose,  where  they  cut  out  their  hearts,  alive, 
and  having  presented  them,  yet  palpitating,  to  their 
gods,  they  drew  the  bodies  down  the  steps  by  the 
feet,  when  they  were  taken  by  others  of  their 
priests.  Let  the  reader  think  what  were  our  sen- 
sations on  this  occasion."  This  horrible  and  dis- 
gusting sight  had  a  powerful  and  lasting  effect  upon 
him.  "  From  this  time,"  says  Diaz,  "  I  feared  that 
cruel  death  ;  and  this  I  mention  l>ecause,  before  I 
went  into  battle,  I  felt  a  great  depression  and  unea- 


CORTEZ.  325 

nnoss  about  my  heart ;  and  then  recommending 
myself  to  God  and  our  blessed  Lady,  the  instant  I 
was  engaged  with  the  enemy  it  left  me." 

This  reverse  suspended  for  a  while  the  progress 
\>f  the  Spaniards.  For  four  days  Cortez  contented 
himself  with  endeavouring  to  keep  the  ground 
which  he  had  previously  gained.  Even  in  this  he 
did  not  quite  succeed,  for  the  Mexicans  compelled 
him  to  recede  at  some  points,  while  at  the  same 
time  they  strengthened  their  own  defences.  A  cir- 
cumstance now  occurred  which  placed  the  invaders 
in  a  very  embarrassing  situation,  and  might  have 
proved  fatal  to  them.  During  their  incessant  at- 
tacks on  the  Spanish  posts,  the  Mexicans  taunted 
their  enemies,  and  exultingly  told  them  that  the 
gods  had  promised  their  destruction  within  eighi 
days.  This  denunciation  produced  such  an  effect 
upon  the  Tlascalans  and  other  allies,  that  in  the 
course  of  one  night  nearly  the  whole  of  them  de- 
serted. Had  the  priests,  by  whom  this  assurance 
was  given  to  the  people,  been  wise  enough  to  fix  a 
more  distant  period  for  the  downfall  of  their  foes, 
the  prediction  might  perhaps  have  worked  its  own 
fulfilment,  as  without  auxiliaries  it  would  have 
been  almost  impossible  for  the  Spaniards  to  con. 
tend  against  the  multitudes  that  surrounded  them. 
But,  by  limiting  the  term  of  the  prediction  to  eight 
days,  the  priests  deprived  themselves  of  the  advan. 
lages  they  might  have  otherwise  secured.  Cortez 
saw  this  error,  and  turned  it  to  account.  Commit- 
ting nothing  to  chance,  he  confined  himself  to  hold, 
ing  the  Mexicans  at  bay  till  the  ominous  time  had 
passed  by.  His  policy  was  successful.  When 
the  allies  found  that  not  only  eight  days,  but  several 


326  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

more,  had  elapsed  without  the  Spaniards  having 
been  destroyed,  they  were  convinced  that  the  Mex- 
ican deities  were  unworthy  of  belief,  and  they  again 
thronged  around  the  standard  of  Cortez. 

From  this  time  Cortez  acted  with  more  method 
and  caution  than  he  had  hitherto  done.  It  is  sin- 
gular  that  the  proper  plan  should  have  been  pointed 
out  to  him  by  a  native  warrior.  This  was  Suchei, 
a  very  brave  man,  brother  to  the  lord  of  Tezcuco  : 
he  had  been  baptized,  and  was  known  under  the 
name  of  Don  Carlos.  He  was  much  attached  to 
the  Spaniards,  and  was  one  of  the  very  few  who 
had  not  been  frightened  away  by  the  denunciations 
of  the  Mexican  oracles.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
remonstrate  with  Cortez  on  his  imprudent  conduct. 
"  Cut  off,"  said  he,  "  their  provisions  and  water : 
there  are  in  Mexico  so  many  xiquipils  of  warriors, 
and  how  can  they  subsist  ?  Their  provisions  must 
at  some  time  be  expended  ;  the  water  which  they 
get  from  the  wells  is  salt ;  and  they  have  no  re- 
source but  from  the  frequent  rains.  Fight  them 
by  hunger  and  thirst,  and  do  not  throw  away  your 
own  force."  "Cortez,"  says  Diaz,  "embraced 
him  for  his  advice  ;  not  that  the  same  had  not  oc- 
curred to  many  of  us  before,  but  we  were  too  im- 
patient."  Men,  however,  who  could  suffer  impa- 
tience to  get  the  better  of  discretion,  were  manifest- 
ly  deficient  in  one  of  the  qualities  most  essential 
to  military  leaders. 

The  first  step  taken  by  Cortez  was  to  obtain  a 
more  complete  command  of  the  lake,  so  as  to  cir- 
cumscribe within  narrower  bounds  the  Mexican  op. 
erations  and  supplies.  In  this  he  was  successful. 
Two  brigantines  were  always  cruising  in  company 


CORTEZ.  327 

and  they  were  constantly  intercepting  canoes  laden 
with  provisions  and  water  for  the  city.  The  cap- 
tains  of  his  vessels  also  discovered  a  mode  of  break- 
ing  through  the  enemy's  palisades,  by  dint  of  sails 
and  oars,  and  were  thus  enabled  to  cover  the  flanks 
of  the  Spanish  troops,  and  to  harass  those  of  the 
Mexicans.  This  was  an  important  advantage. 
Strict  care  was  now  taken  to  fill  up  the  canals  and 
ditches,  and  to  level  and  enlarge  the  ground  as  fast 
as  the  besiegers  advanced,  even  Cortez  himself 
carrying  beams  and  earth  for  that  purpose.  The 
heavy  rains,  too,  however  unpleasant  they  might 
be,  were  of  service  to  the  Spaniards,  as  during 
such  weather  the  Mexicans  always  relaxed  in  their 
exertions.  Thus  the  assailants  worked  forward, 
slowly  but  surely,  "  gaining  every  day  a  bridge  or 
a  parapet."  In  this  manner  each  of  the  three  at- 
tacks was  considerably  advanced  towards  the  city, 
till  at  length  the  Spaniards  reached  some  fountains, 
which  they  cut  off;  their  cavalry  could  likewise 
act  freely  throughout  the  whole  of  the  space  which 
they  had  won. 

The  progress  which  he  was  now  making  indu- 
ced Cortez  to  hope  that  the  Mexicans  would  listen 
to  proposals.  He  therefore  despatched  three  of 
his  principal  prisoners  with  a  message  to  Guati- 
motzin :  a  mission  which  they  undertook  with  no 
small  degree  of  reluctance.  In  this  communica- 
tion Cortez  dwelt  upon  the  sufferings  and  dangers 
to  which  the  Mexicans  were  exposed,  his  wish  to 
prevent  the  loss  of  lives  and  the  destruction  of  the 
city,  and  the  affection  which  he  bore  to  all  the  fam. 
ily  of  the  great  Montezuma !  The  Mexican  mon- 
arch summoned  a  council  of  nobles  and  priests  to 


PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

deliberate  upon  the  propositions  of  the  enemy. 
Brave  though  he  was,  he  was  willing  to  consent  to 
a  peace  ;  for  he  was  moved  by  the  distresses  of  his 
people,  and,  being  abandoned  by  his  allies,  he  saw 
but  little  chance  of  making  an  effectual  resistance 
The  priests,  however,  were  of  a  different  opinion 
They  painted  in  glowing  and  true  colours  the  con 
duct  of  the  Spaniards  to  Montezuma  and  his  fami- 
ly, to  other  princes,  and,  indeed,  to  all  those  who 
had  fallen  under  their  yoke ;  they  warned  him  to 
beware  of  the  treachery  of  Cortez ;  reminded  him 
of  his  own  martial  fame  ;  and  once  more  boldly 
promised,  in  the  name  of  the  gods,  that  his  arms 
should  be  crowned  with  victory.  Thus  stimulated 
by  every  motive  that  can  actuate  the  brave  and 
the  patriotic,  Guatimotzin  declared  that  he  would 
fight  to  the  last  man  ;  and  he  issued  orders  to  sink 
wells,  to  husband  the  provisions,  and  to  spare  no 
exertions  for  the  procuring  of  nocturnal  supplies. 

The  Spaniards  were  not  long  before  they  felt  the 
effects  of  this  desperate  resolution.  "  Our  army," 
says  Diaz,  "  remained  quietly  at  their  post  for  two 
days,  expecting  the  answer  from  Mexico.  We 
were  then  attacked  at  all  points  by  fresh  bodies  ol 
the  enemy,  who  fell  on  us  like  lions,  closing  upon 
and  endeavouring  to  seize  us  with  their  hands 
whenever  the  horn  of  Guatimotzin  was  sounded. 
For  seven  days  were  we  thus  engaged,  watching  in 
a  body  during  the  night,  at  daybreak  going  into  ac- 
tion, fighting  through  the  whole  day,  and  in  the 
evening  retiring  to  console  ourselves  with  our 
wretched  maize,  cakes,  agi  or  pepper,  tunas,  and 
herbs.  Our  offer  of  peace  only  furnished  new 
matter  for  the  enemy  to  revile  us  upon,  reproach 


CORTEZ.  329 

,>\%  us  as  cowards,  and  saying  that  peace  was  for 
women  and  arms  for  men."  While  the  Mexicans 
were  thus  keeping  the  Spaniards  occupied  in  de. 
fending  their  position  towards  the  lake,  they  were 
busy  in  assembling  troops  to  fall  upon  it  on  the 
land-side.  The  mutilated  remains  of  the  captured 
Spaniards  were  sent  round  the  provinces,  to  encour- 
age the  rising  in  arms  of  such  of  the  natives  as 
were  yet  faithful  to  Guatimotzin.  A  considerable 
force  was  by  this  means  brought  into  the  field, 
which  commenced  its  operations  by  falling  upon 
the  allies  of  Cortez.  Ill  as  he  could  spare  them, 
the  Spanish  general  was  compelled  to  send  two 
strong  detachments,  under  De  Tapia  and  Sandoval, 
to  support  his  friends.  Both  officers  accomplished 
their  object,  and  Sandoval  came  back  just  in  time  to 
sustain  the  besieging  army,  which  his  departure 
had  so  much  weakened  that  it  was  now  "  in  a  most 
perilous  way."  His  opportune  arrival,  however, 
turned  the  scale  in  its  favour. 

In  the  hope  that  the  dispersion  of  the  provincial 
succours  might  have  somewhat  discouraged  the  en- 
emy, Cortez  now  sent  another  embassy  to  Guati- 
motzin. Of  promises  and  professions  he  was  as 
lavish  as  on  the  former  occasion.  Perhaps,  too,  he 
was  prompted  by  another  consideration  of  no  tri- 
fling weight.  His  stock  of  gunpowder  was  re- 
duced almost  to  nothing.  It  was  well  for  him  that, 
by  mere  chance,  at  this  critical  moment  he  re- 
c«ived  a  supply  of  soldiers  and  ordnance  stores, 
which  had  been  intended  for  another  destination. 
This  was  singularly  fortunate,  for  this  embassy 
again  proved  abortive.  The  only  notice  which 
Guatimotzin  condescended  to  take  of  it  was  to  or- 


330  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

der  that  the  envoys  should  quit  the  city  without  de. 
lay. 

Negotiation  having  failed,  Cortez  was  obliged  to 
recur  to  arms.  There  were  some  indications 
which  justified  him  in  looking  forward  to  a  success- 
ful issue  of  the  contest.  The  Mexicans,  it  is  true, 
still  manifested  the  same  spirit  of  hatred  and  the 
eame  determination  ;  they  still  loaded  their  enemies 
with  curses,  menaces,  and  insults  ;  they  were  still 
e&ger  to  rush  upon  the  sword  ;  but  famine  was  ev- 
idently doing  its  dreadful  work  among  them  ;  and, 
though  their  minds  were  unconquered,  their  bodies 
we»e  become  less  capable  of  endurance  and  exer- 
tion ;  "  there  was  not  so  much  movement  among 
them  as  formerly,"  says  the  Spanish  chronicler, 
"  noi  Jid  they  so  busily  employ  themselves  in  open- 
ing  the  ditches."  In  proportion  as  their  energy 
declined,  that  of  their  enemies  increased.  Every 
day  the  invaders  made  some  progress  towards  the 
devoted  city.  At  length,  Cortez  determined  to 
make  a  vigorous  and  combined  attack,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  gaining  a  footing  in  the  heart  of  the  capi- 
tal. The  three  divisions  were  to  establish  them- 
selves in  the  Taltelulco,  or  great  square,  in  which 
stood  the  principal  temples  and  strong  buildings. 
The  plan  was  ably  executed.  Alvarado,  whose 
division  was  the  nearest  to  the  square,  was  the  first 
to  force  an  entrance.  After  a  sharp  combat  of  two 
hours,  he  drove  the  Mexicans  from  their  barricades, 
and  penetrated  into  it.  Then,  retaining  two  thirds 
of  his  men  to  keep  the  enemy  in  the  streets  at 
bay,  he  gave  the  remainder  to  Gutierre  de  Badajoz, 
lo  storm  the  temple  of  the  war-god.  Headed  b\ 
the  priests,  a  body  of  the  natives  defended  thi.- 


CORTEZ.  331 

temple  with  the  most  obstinate  valour.  They  re- 
ceded  slowly  up  the  steps  before  their  adversaries, 
disputed  every  step,  and,  when  they  were  at  last 
driven  to  the  flat  summit  of  the  edifice,  they  con- 
tinued the  fight  till  darkness  brought  the  sanguinary 
struggle  to  a  close.  The  triumphant  Spaniards  then 
set  fire  to  the  images  and  sanctuaries  of  the  Mexi- 
can deities,  and  planted  their  standard  on  the  top  of 
the  temple.  It  was  not  till  some  time  after  Alvara- 
do  had  achieved  this  conquest  that  Cortez  and  San- 
doval  were  able  to  join  him.  Guatirnotzin  had  re- 
tired to  another  part  of  the  city,  and  the  royal 
palaces  in  this  quarter  were  levelled  to  the  ground 
by  the  victors.  Fifty  thousand  of  the  allies  rapid, 
ly  and  joyfully  accomplished  this  work  of  destruc- 
tion. 

This  was  a  fatal  blow  to  the  Mexicans,  but  they 
did  not  yet  lose  heart.  Their  onsets  continued  to 
be  daily  made  upon  the  Spanish  posts  with  the  same 
inveteracy  as  before,  though  with  diminished  means. 
They  soon,  however,  received  a  severe  check,  which 
contributed  greatly  to  repress  their  impetuosity. 
An  ambuscade,  consisting  of  the  flower  of  his  army 
and  a  thousand  Tlascalans,  was  laid  by  Cortez  du- 
ring the  night  in  some  large  houses  which  had  be- 
longed  to  a  nobleman  of  the  city.  On  the  follow, 
ing  morning,  by  a  feigned  retreat,  he  drew  the  en- 
emy into  this  snare.  The  signal  being  given,  the 
concealed  party  rushed  out  upon  the  rear  of  the 
pursuing  Mexicans,  who,  unable  to  advance  or  re- 
tire, and  assailed  on  all  sides,  were  routed  with  fear- 
ful slaughter.  Henceforth  they  no  longer  follow, 
ed  up  the  Spaniards  w^en  they  had  succeeded  in 
repulsing  them. 


332  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

For  a  few  days  Cortez  desisted  from  active  cp. 
erations.  He  ordered  the  destruction  of  houses 
to  be  suspended,  and  again  endeavoured  to  open 
a  negotiation  with  the  Mexican  monarch,  to  whom 
he  gave  the  strongest  assurances  that  "  he  should 
enjoy  the  plenitude  of  power  and  honours."  Cor- 
tez  was  really  solicitous  to  save  the  city  from  any 
farther  devastation  ;  he  did  not  wish  the  trophy  of 
his  conquest  to  be  a  heap  of  ruins.  The  overtures 
of  the  Spanish  general  were  received  by  Guatimot. 
zin  with  an  apparent  disposition  to  come  to  an  un- 
derstanding ;  but  this  was  all  fallacious,  for  the 
king  was  wisely  averse  from  trusting  himself  in  the 
hands  of  his  unprincipled  foes.  His  object  in  pre- 
tending to  listen  to  the  proposals  was  solely  to  gain 
time  for  strengthening  the  portion  of  the  city  in 
which  he  resided,  and  for  collecting  forces  to  make 
another  assault  upon  the  Spanish  quarters.  "  The 
mask,"  says  Diaz,  "  was  soon  thrown  off;  we  were 
attacked  by  great  bodies  of  the  enemy  with  such 
violence  as  if  all  were  beginning  anew.  Having 
been  rather  taken  by  surprise,  they  did  us  at  first 
some  mischief."  The  Mexicans  were  ultimately 
defeated  ;  and  this  was  the  last  flickering  of  a  flame 
which  was  about  to  expire. 

Another  attempt  to  negotiate  having  failed,  Cor- 
tez resolved  to  force  his  way  into  the  remainder  of 
the  city.  A  tacit  suspension  of  arms  was,  howev- 
er,  continued  between  the  two  parties  for  four  or 
five  days  :  they  paused  from  weakness,  he  with 
the  hope  that  the  consciousness  of  their  exhaustion 
might  lead  them  to  surrender.  "  During  this  time, 
numbers  of  the  wretched  Indians,  reduced  by  fam- 
ine, surrounded  the  Spanish  quarters  every  night." 


CORTEZ.  333 

In  order  to  conciliate  their  fellow-countrymen,  Cor- 
tez  ordered  that  no  injury  should  be  done  to  these 
unfortunate  beings.  As,  however,  no  signs  of  sub- 
mission appeared,  the  Spaniards  recommenced  their 
operations,  and  gradually  gained  ground  in  all  di- 
rections. The  finishing  blow  was  given  to  the 
Mexican  monarchy  by  the  measures  which  Cortez 
now  adopted.  All  escape  except  by  the  lake  was 
already  cut  off  from  Guatimotzin ;  that  last  re- 
source  he  was  on  the  point  of  losing.  Cortez  di' 
reeled  Sandoval  to  proceed  with  the  flotilla,  and  in- 
vest that  quarter  of  the  city  in  which  the  sovereign 
had  taken  refuge.  At  the  same  time,  he  charged 
him  not  to  injure  any  of  the  natives  unless  he  was 
himself  attacked,  and  even  then  not  to  go  beyond 
self-defence ;  but  to  level  all  the  houses,  and  the 
numerous  advanced  works  which  the  enemy  had 
constructed  on  the  lake. 

The  fatal  moment  was  at  length  arrived  whee. 
Guatimotzin  must  cease  to  hope  that  he  could  long- 
er hold  the  city  against  his  foe.  To  yield  himsell 
up  to  Cortez  was  abhorrent  to  his  feelings,  and  con- 
sequently nothing  remained  for  him  but  flight.  Be- 
sides, if  he  could  succeed  in  eluding  pursuit,  there 
was  a  chance  that  he  might  raise  his  standard  in 
aome  other  part  of  his  empire.  As  soon,  therefore, 
as  he  saw  the  preparations  for  surrounding  him,  he 
embarked  with  his  family,  courtiers,  and  officers, 
in  fifty  large  piraguas,  which  had  been  held  in  read- 
iness for  the  purpose.  All  the  nobility  and  chiefs 
likewise  took  to  flight  in  various  directions.  But 
the  Spanish  flotilla  kept  too  close  a  watch  to  allowr 
of  his  carrying  his  scheme  into  effect.  He  was 
speedily  discovered,  pursued,  and  compelled  to  sur« 


334  PERILOUS    ADVENTURES. 

render.  This  event,  which  terminated  the  siege  of 
Mexico,  took  place  on  the  evening  of  the  15th  of 
August,  1521. 

When  the  unfortunate  Guatimotzin  was  brought 
into  the  Spanish  camp,  Cortez  embraced  him,  and 
treated  him  with  every  semblance  of  respect.  But 
the  fallen  monarch  could  not  conceal  how  deeply 
his  heart  was  wounded.  While  the  tears  gushed 
into  his  eyes,  he  exclaimed  to  Cortez,  "  Malintzin ! 
I  have  done  that  which  was  my  duty  in  the  defence 
of  my  kingdom  and  people.  My  efforts  have  fail, 
ed  ;  and  being  now  brought  by  force  a  prisoner  into 
your  hands,  draw  that  poniard  from  your  side  and 
stab  me  to  the  heart."  In  reply  to  this  affecting 
appeal,  Cortez  again  embraced  him,  praised  his  val- 
our and  firmness,  assured  him  that  all  which  had 
passed  would  be  buried  in  oblivion,  and  promised 
that  he  should  retain  his  crown,  and  exercise  his 
authority  as  fully  and  as  freely  as  he  had  hitherto 
done.  How  well  he  kept  his  promise,  history,  to 
his  eternal  shame,  has  recorded. 

The  dreadful  state  to  which  the  Mexican  capital 
had  been  reduced  is  thus  emphatically  described  by 
Bernal  Diaz.  "  What  I  am  going  to  mention," 
says  he,  "  is  truth,  and  I  swear  and  say  amen  to  it. 
I  have  read  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  but  1 
cannot  conceive  that  the  mortality  there  exceeded 
this  of  Mexico ;  for  all  the  people  from  the  distant 
provinces  which  belonged  to  this  empire  had  con- 
centrated  themselves  here,  where  they  mostly  died. 
The  streets,  the  squares,  the  houses,  and  the  court* 
of  the  Taltelulco  were  covered  with  dead  bodie* , 
we  could  not  step  without  treading  on  them  ;  the 
lake  and  canals  were  filled  with  them,  and  the  stenc*» 


CORTEZ.  335 

was  intolerable.  For  this  reason  our  troops,  imme- 
diately after  the  capture  of  the  royal  family,  retired 
to  their  former  quarters.  Cortez  himself  was  for 
some  time  ill  from  the  effect  of  it.  Guatimotzin 
now  requested  of  Cortez  that  permission  should  be 
given  to  clear  the  city  entirely  of  the  inhabitants, 
in  order  to  purify  it,  and  restore  its  salubrity.  Ac- 
cordingly, they  were  ordered  to  remove  to  the 
neighbouring  towns  ;  and  for  three  days  and  three 
nights  all  the  causeways  were  full,  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  of  men,  women,  and  children,  so  weak 
and  sickly,  squalid,  and  dirty,  and  pestilential,  that 
it  was  misery  to  behold  them.  When  all  those 
who  were  able  had  quitted  the  city,  we  went  to  ex- 
amine the  state  of  it,  which  was  as  I  have  descri- 
bed. The  streets,  courts,  and  houses  were  cover- 
ed with  dead  bodies,  and  some  miserable  wretchea 
were  creeping  about,  in  the  different  stages  of  the 
most  offensive  disorders,  the  consequences  of  fam- 
ine and  improper  food.  The  ground  was  all  broken 
up  to  get  at  the  roots  of  such  vegetation  as  it  afford- 
ed, and  the  very  trees  were  stripped  of  their  bark  ! 
There  was  no  fresh  water  in  the  town.  During  all 
their  distress,  however,  though  their  constant  prac- 
tice was  to  feast  on  such  as  they  took  prisoners,  no 
instance  occurred  of  their  having  preyed  on  each 
other ;  and  certainly  never  since  the  creation  ex« 
isted  a  people  who  suffered  so  much  from  hunger 
thirst,  and  warfare." 


THE  XHD. 


THF 


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,.UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRA 

A JpL 

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